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Updated: May 2, 2025
"That ain't a full-size forty-five, is it that one you're packin'?" "Doesn't it look it?" answered Bard. "Nope. Holster seems pretty small to me." "It's the usual gun, I'm sure," said Bard, and pulled the weapon from the leather. Holding the butt loosely, his trigger finger hooked clear around the far side of the guard, he showed the gun.
But you don't know that feller Crewe he's a full-size cyclone when he gets started, and nothin' but a range of mountains could stop him." "It must be fairly exciting to ride him, Ham." "Say, but it just is. Kind of breathless, though. He ain't very well known around the State, and he was bound to run and I just couldn't let him come out without any clothes on."
The branches, too, of most garden shrubs and trees are trimmed in fantastic shapes. What is the charm in these distortions? First, perhaps, the universal human interest in anything requiring skill. Think of the patience and persistence and experimentation necessary to rear a dwarf pear tree twelve or fifteen inches high, growing its full number of years and bearing full-size fruit in its season!
"Stow all that, son," he interrupted more tolerantly than was my due. "Forget your lungs, lights and liver and stand up a full-size man. In my opinion you've had too much doctorin'. A month with a bull train, and a diet of beans and sowbelly will put a linin' in your in'ards and a heart in your chest.
Well, imagine your hero in such a position. He has been waiting outside the murderer's den preparatory to dashing in and saving the heroine. He dashes in. "Hands up, you scoundrels," he cries. And then his glasses get all misty, and there he is, temporarily blind, with a full-size desperado backing away and measuring the distance in order to hand him one with a pickaxe.
Had it been now a catamount, or even a full-size panther, I would have embellished a performance for you worth regarding. But it is no such marvelous feat to exhibit the feats of so dull a beast; though, for that matter, too, a bear may be overacted. Yes, yes; it is not every imitator that knows natur' may be outdone easier than she is equaled. But all our work is yet before us.
Out of the confused murmuring, a soft voice spoke clearly: "Hello, New York. I got your party. What's the matter?" A nasal voice gave answer, apparently at Carlisle's elbow: "Well, be ca'm, little one. You people got the rush-bug worsen some full-size cities aintyer? Butt out and gimme a chanst. Hello! W'ere arey'r, Bassadoors!" "Here I am," said Bassadoors. "Miss Heth?" "I am Miss Heth."
So with hindrances enough, private and public, we must imagine the great artist climbing his scaffolding to the vault of the Pope’s chapel, followed by his assistants, and setting them their task, transferring his full-size outline cartoons, prepared from the general designs, to the roof.
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