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Updated: June 14, 2025
Love-o'-Women saw fwhat was in my mind, an' 'Go on, Terence, h sez, 'I know fwhat's waitin' for you. 'I will not, I sez. "Twill kape a little yet. "Ye know the turn of the pass forninst Jumrood and the nine mile road on the flat to Peshawur? All Peshawur was along that road day and night waitin' for frinds men, women, childer, and bands.
"Like unto Jehu, the son of Nimshi!" murmured Yorke, "he's sure springing old T and B up the grade." Sergeant Slavin pulled up his smoking team along-side his two mounted subordinates. "So ho, bhoys!" was his greeting, "fwhat's this bizness?" Yorke rapidly acquainted him with all the details. At one point in his narration he had occasion to turn to George: "That's how it was, Reddy?"
"My Gawd! bhoys," he cried, "fwhat's this I was doin'?" Then he burst suddenly upon Tex with: "Why the hell don't ye shoot, domn ye? A baste like me is fit for nothin' but to rot in this Gawd- forsaken land!" The fierce rage of the man at his own act was pitiful. Texas dropped his gun into the holster and turned his face away. Jefferson Worth held out a cup.
"Ye'll have a Disthrict Coort-martial settin' on ye yet, me son," said Mulvaney, "but" he opened a bottle "I will not report ye this time. Fwhat's in the mess-kid is mint for the belly, as they say, 'specially whin that mate is dhrink, Here's luck! A bloody war or a no, we've got the sickly season. War, thin!" he waved the innocent "pop" to the four quarters of Heaven. "Bloody war!
When Barbara's "uncles" had returned with the Indian woman and the grips, Pat stood in the center of the living room and looked curiously about, an expression of wonder upon his battle-scarred Irish countenance. "Now don't that bate the divil! Tell me" he faced the girl with mock severity "fwhat's this ye've been doin' already?"
Fwhat's he doin' here, I dun'no'. Fwhere's he come from, I dun'no'. French or English, I dun'no'. But a gintleman born, I know. 'Tis no tailor, darlin', but tailorin' he'll do as aisy as he'll do a hunderd other things anny day.
The whiskey was lent and returned, but Dinah Shadd, who had been just as eager as her husband in asking after old friends, rent me with "I take shame for you, Sorr, coming down here though the Saints know you're as welkim as the daylight whin you do come an' upsettin' Terence's head wid your nonsense about about fwhat's much betther forgotten.
"Well, now, fwhat do ye think av that? Tex, ye danged owld sand rat, ut's proud av yersilf ye should be to be the uncle av sich a darlin'. An' tell us now, Sorr, fwhat's this I hear about yer buildin' a power plant for electric lights, or street cars, or somethin'? We thought that the lad here left the danged counthry for good, an' sarves thim danged yellow-legs that boss the Company right for not knowin' a man whin they see wan."
He's as good a bhoy as ever stepped whin his mind's clear. I know fwhat's comin', though, this night in barricks. Lord send he doesn't loose on me whin I rise to knock him down. 'Tis that that's in my mind day an' night." This put the case in a much less pleasant light, and fully accounted for Mulvaney's anxiety.
"Standin'-room an' no more," sez I, "onless it may be fwhat ye niver had, an' that's manners, ye rafflin' ruffian," for I was not goin' to have the Service throd upon. "Out of this," sez he. "I'm in charge av this section av construction." "I'm in charge av mesilf," sez I, "an' it's like I will stay a while. D'ye raffle much in these parts?" "Fwhat's that to you?" sez he.
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