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Updated: May 12, 2025
That's mine, says Joe, as the devil said to the dead policeman. And I belong to a race too, says Bloom, that is hated and persecuted. Also now. This very moment. This very instant. Gob, he near burnt his fingers with the butt of his old cigar. Robbed, says he. Plundered. Insulted. Persecuted. Taking what belongs to us by right.
Her father's mild blue eye penetrated her secret at once. "That's a little bit o' better," he said. "It's Miss Woodburn now." "Now then, father," reproved Mrs. Woodburn. "Oh, I knows my place, plea Gob," mumbled the old man. "Ought to arter all the trainin' you been at the pains to put me to." And he winked and chuckled and grunted over his porridge.
Thus it came about that Mose, without realizing it, became that despised, forlorn thing, a sheep herder. He made a serious social mistake when he "lined up" with the truck farmers, the tenderfeet and the "greaser" sheep herders, and cut out "a great gob of trouble" for himself in Cheyenne County. He admired Delmar most fervidly, and liked him.
"Was there ever such a long night?" groaned Gob, as he stretched his neck for the thirtieth time to look up at the narrow strip of sky that could be seen between the overhanging walls of the canyon, in hopes of discovering signs of the coming dawn. "It won't be long now," said Frank, who carried a little watch along with him, and had several times struck a match to consult its face.
Doc., P. L. G., F. T. C. D., F. R. U. I., F. R. C. P. I. and F. R. C. S. I. You never saw the like of it in all your born puff. Gob, if he got that lottery ticket on the side of his poll he'd remember the gold cup, he would so, but begob the citizen would have been lagged for assault and battery and Joe for aiding and abetting.
His expression changed completely and he began to swell, as was customary with him when he was angry, as though suffering from an internal eruption of some kind. "The bla'guard!" I heard him mutter. "Now, be gob, what'll that felly be waantin'?" and then as the stranger drew nearer, "Who was it tould him I was here? Maybe some waan at the ahffice."
Visszontlátásra, kedves baráton! Visszontlátásra! Gone but not forgotten. Gob, the devil wouldn't stop him till he got hold of the bloody tin anyhow and out with him and little Alf hanging on to his elbow and he shouting like a stuck pig, as good as any bloody play in the Queen's royal theatre: Where is he till I murder him? And Ned and J. J. paralysed with the laughing.
He'd a gob on him that hung open like a rat-trap with a broken spring, and he was as thin as a barber's pole, you could a' tied a reef knot in the middle of 'um; and whin the moon was full there was no houldin' him." Mr Button gazed at the reflection of the sunset on the water for a moment as if recalling some form from the past, and then proceeded.
Says I: 'I'll go back Eastern Shore way, and see if there's any niggers to git. So I tramped it from Somers's Cove to Princess Anne, an' sluiced my gob at Kingston and the Trappe till I felt noddy with the booze, and lay down in the churchyard to snooze it off.
Boy Woodburn came swiftly into the yard, her troop at her heels. She marked the truant in the door. "Well, Albert," she said. "We missed you." "He's too stuck up wiv 'isself to pray to Gob any more," mocked Jerry, stopping while the girl went on into the stable. "He thinks he can do it all on his own wivout no 'elp from no one," sneered Stanley. "Albert does." Albert swaggered forward.
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