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Updated: June 12, 2025
"I wonder if that could be er young man, I think I'll answer this myself." "Oh, very well, sir," says I, shruggin' my shoulders careless. Must have been half an hour later when Old Hickory calls me into the private office, and I finds him still gazin' at the scented note. "Torchy," says he, glancin' keen at me from Tinder his bushy eyebrows, "this Mrs.
Teck Pervis sauntered in, sat down folded his arms upon the table, and sheepishly watched his wife as she flitted from place to place in the humble little kitchen. Mrs. Pervis paused, and her eyes met her husband's gaze. "Well what in ther wor'l is ter matter Teck Pervis? Why air ye gazin at me so dis mornin, turn yer cup and tak yer coffy."
"He came around to-night," says she, "to show Auntie some miniatures of the late Alicia. She asked to see them. Look! They are examining one now." Sure enough they were, with their heads close together. And Auntie is pattin' him soothin' on the arm. "Kind of kittenish motions, if you ask me," says I. "She's gazin' at him mushy, too." "I never knew Auntie to be quite so absurd," says Vee.
"Kyrle, you know what you promised when you told me you'd make up with Martha? Now is the appointed time. Do it!" And Mr. Ballard, chuckin' his hat and overcoat on a chair, sails right in. I expect it was the last thing in the world Martha was lookin' for; for she sits there gazin' at him sort of stupid until he's done the trick. Uh-huh! No halfway business about it, either.
They kicked up a shindy with some bar-loungers, an' the fur flew. When the police came, old Peg-leg, the skipper, you know, was the only man left in the place, havin' unshipped his crutch for the fight. 'What have you bin a-doin' of here throwin' grapes about? asked the peeler, gazin' at the floor, suspicious-like. 'Grapes, said Dot-an'-carry-one, 'them ain't grapes.
I have kept my secret for three years and I still hold it." He's a dramatic cuss, Rupert. I leaves him posin' in front of the mirror on the bathroom door, gazin' sort of romantic at himself. "Not a common, everyday nut," as I explains to Vee that night, when I goes up for my reg'lar Wednesday evenin' call, "but a nut, all the same. Sort of a parlor pirate, too."
It would be more in his hand at this time if he thinks of Silver Phil. "Silver Phil, who's full of wrath at the taunts of the departed gyard, slips his hands free of the irons. Most of the hide on his wrists comes with 'em, but Silver Phil don't care. The gyard's back is to him as that gent sits gazin' out an' off along the dusty trail where it winds gray an' hot toward Tucson.
You've got more ability than any man in the State, and you sit here gazin' at that mountain and lettin' a darned fool millionaire walk in ahead of you." Austen rose and crossed over to Mr. Gaylord's chair, and, his hands still in his pockets, looked down thoughtfully into that gentleman's square and rugged face.
And after I had said it, the idee struck me as bein' sort o' pitiful, to go to whippin' a ghost. But she didn't seem to notice my remark, for she seemed to be a gazin' upward in a sort of a muse; and she says, "Oh! would you not like to talk with your departed kindred?" "Wall, yes," says I firmly, after a minute's thought. "I would like to."
"But the baker-man kep' on comin', though when he got to the Maddoxes' doorsteps he couldn't make change for a quarter nor tell pie from bread; an' sure 's you're born, the very day Fiddy went away to be married to Dixie, that mornin' she drawed that everlastin' numhead of a flour-food peddler out into the orchard, 'n' cut off a lock o' her hair, 'n' tied it up with a piece o' her blue ribbon, 'n' give it to him; an' old Mis' Bascom says, when he went past her house he was gazin' at it 'n' kissin' of it, 'n' his horse meanderin' on one side the road 'n' the other, 'n' the door o' the cart open 'n' slammin' to 'n' fro, 'n' ginger cookies spillin' out all over the lot.
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