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Updated: July 5, 2025
"I looked in the direction indicated by my companion. I saw Pompo standing by the root of a very large tree, looking upward, shaking his tail, and barking at intervals. Before I had time to make any farther observations Abe's voice again sounded in my ears. "`Gollies! it am a buttonwood!
You can see 'em this time of year, you know. Snow helps their reflection, Pop says." "Is that what it was? I saw it too, and when I saw the red glow in the sky I just naturally thought of that Long Lake fire last month. Say, by the way I got a postal card from that fellow in Boston, we rescued. Remember? Dave Connors is his name Gollies, every time I think of forest fires I shudder.
Why didn't you?" Lucia's head drooped a bit. "We were talking about something else." The crabbed man was inflamed by this reply. "What was you talkin' about that was so gol darned important that you forgot the only important thing there was to talk about?... Well?" he cried, when she said nothing. "By gollies! I remember now!
And Rube, as he said this, made a fresh attack upon the wolf-mutton. "I chawed up the ole leggins, till I wur as naked as Chimley Rock." "Gollies! was it winter?" "No. 'Twur calf-time, an' warm enuf for that matter. I didn't mind the want o' the buckskin that a way, but I kud 'a eat more o' it. "The third day I struck a town o' sand-rats. This niggur's har wur longer then than it ur now.
And, by gollies, when I read that there gun-fight down in Texas, I ketched myself feelin' along my hip, like I was packin' a gun. And when I read about that cowboy's hoss, the one with the sarko eye and the white legs, why, I ketched myself feelin' for my ole bandanna to blow my nose. An' I seen dead hosses a-plenty. But you needn't to say nothin' about that in the letter.
Theer's more o' God in that gert shine o' buttercups 'pon the grass than in all them whey-faced chapel folks put together." "My stars, Joan!" "'Tis truth, an' you'll find 'tis some day, same as what I have." "I doan't see how any lad be gwaine to make heaven myself," said Tom gloomily. "Us had a mining cap'n from Camborne preach this marnin', an', by Gollies!
"Viva!" "He's right, he's right!" "Hooraw for old Rube!" and various exclamations, were uttered by the hunters. "'Tain't needcessary for them to know why he shud 'a tuk that track. They'll know his arrows; that's enuf. By the time they gits back, with their fingers in thur meat-traps, we'll hev start enough to carry us to Hackensack." "Ay, that we will, by gollies!"
"What's the matter?" she inquired, seeing at once that something was troubling Uncle Henry. "What ain't the matter?" the old fellow screamed, but glad of someone to whom he could unburden his overflowing heart. "Gol darn it! By gollies! I got it again!" he cried, seized with another inspiration. He eyed the radiant Lucia, as a miser might appraise a new gold coin.
"Hya, Massa Brace, jess to la'bord, ober de la'bord bow." "It do look like land," assented the sailor, directing his glance upon something of a strange appearance, low down upon the surface of the sea, and still but dimly discernible through the fog. "Shiver my timbers if it don't! An island it be, not a very big 'un, but for all that, it seem a island." "My gollies! dar am people on it!
"Say, Romper, is your fire really out?" queried Bruce, looking at the fireplace. Then he added: "Sure enough, but by gollies I smell some I hope it isn't gee, look over to the west there above the trees: Is that smoke? Is it? Say, fellows, can it be a forest fire? Gee, I hope not." "Forest fire!" exclaimed half a dozen scouts.
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