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Updated: June 4, 2025
His hairy old breast showed through the night-shirt, which gaped apart; the stump of his left arm lay upon the book to keep it open. "Ah, my tear yo'ng friendt! Passil! Marge! Iss it you?" he called out, joyously, the next moment. "Why, are you sick, Lindau?" March anxiously scanned his face in taking his hand. Lindau laughed. "No; I'm all righdt. Only a lidtle lazy, and a lidtle eggonomigal.
"Und ve vill starf den; ain't dot so?" inquired Mr. Switzer, with a jolly laugh from across the aisle. "Ve vill starf alretty; vill ve not, mine gloomy friendt?" "We sure will," predicted the grouch of the company. "They took the dining car off at the last station, and I understand there isn't another one to be had until we get to Hampton Junction. We sure will starve!" "Ha!
He nodded, bit his thumb again, swore under his breath: then lifting his head and looking at me with sullen and passionate impudence "Bah! the Pacific is big, my friendt.
I told him I didn't know when I spoke that way, and I honored him for sticking to his 'brinciples'; I don't believe in his 'brincibles'; and we wept on each other's necks at least, he did. Dogged if he didn't kiss me before I knew what he was up to. He said I was his chenerous gong friendt, and he begged my barton if he had said anything to wound me.
Yoost now I am glad my Barang iss lost, mine friendt; eferything iss goot, unt dere iss to be no more accidents." Barry settled down to rest, gazing thoughtfully across the silent river. The more distant reaches of the stream were still tinged redly with the fierce jungle fire that grew and spread back to the flat lands.
"Not exactly, but nearer right than you imagine," chuckled Houten. "I haf been in communication with Hendrik unt his mans effer since t'ree days ago, mine friendt. I pring opp mine launch as a part ouf a plan, unt it vas goot, ja? I toldt you it vas goot. Now schleep. I am heavy for schleep."
"Yes, my name is Lindau," he said, slowly, while he scanned March's face. Then he broke into a long cry. "Ah-h-h-h-h, my dear poy! my gong friendt! my-my Idt is Passil Marge, not zo? Ah, ha, ha, ha! How gladt I am to zee you! Why, I am gladt! And you rememberdt me? You remember Schiller, and Goethe, and Uhland? And Indianapolis? You still lif in Indianapolis? It sheers my hardt to zee you.
"Yes, my name is Lindau," he said, slowly, while he scanned March's face. Then he broke into a long cry. "Ah-h-h-h-h, my dear poy! my gong friendt! my-my Idt is Passil Marge, not zo? Ah, ha, ha, ha! How gladt I am to zee you! Why, I am gladt! And you rememberdt me? You remember Schiller, and Goethe, and Uhland? And Indianapolis? You still lif in Indianapolis? It sheers my hardt to zee you.
At another time, at a political meeting, Field suddenly stepped out to the front and began: "Ladies and Shentlemen: I haf such a pad colt dot et vas not bossible for me to make you a speedg to-night, but I haf die bleasure to introduce to you my brilliant chournalistic friendt Euchene Fielt, who will spoke you in my blace." While in Denver Field worked upon the Tribune.
His hairy old breast showed through the night-shirt, which gaped apart; the stump of his left arm lay upon the book to keep it open. "Ah, my tear yo'ng friendt! Passil! Marge! Iss it you?" he called out, joyously, the next moment. "Why, are you sick, Lindau?" March anxiously scanned his face in taking his hand. Lindau laughed. "No; I'm all righdt. Only a lidtle lazy, and a lidtle eggonomigal.
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