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Updated: May 2, 2025
On this side perhaps the grub's dorsal vessel would be wounded, its heart, an organ indispensable to life. The fact remains that my attempts to make the grub tackle its victim from the back have failed. Does this mean that it entertains the least suspicion of the danger which it might incur were it to produce putrefaction by awkwardly carving its victuals from the back?
"I had a good job, putting in a power plant for his nibs" he indicated the retreating Gordon with a disrespectful jerk of the thumb "but I quit." "Not enough pay?" "Best wages I ever got. He pays well." "Poor grub?" "Grub's fine." "What made you quit?" "I haven't exactly quit, but I'm going to. When I saw you coming up the dock I said: 'There's the chief! Now he'll want me. So I began to pack."
The last word changed the current of his thoughts, for it suggested the idea of another "portion" belonging to some girls with which men are too apt to fall in love! "Massa, de grub's ready," said Quashy, entering the hut at that moment. "Go to work then, Quash. Don't wait. I'll be with you directly." But Quashy did wait.
"I know now why you brought me here," he sighed contentedly after the coffee was served. "It wasn't to see the girls, either. Grub's got possibilities I never dreamed about." Lowell smiled, sent a negligent nod toward a group that had just come in and recognized him, and tendered Johnny his tooled leather cigarette case. "I never talk business until after I am fed," he observed.
To unroll it is impossible to the insect, for I myself have some trouble in doing so. One single point is accessible to the sting: the under part of the head, or rather of the first segments, which are placed outside the coil, so that the grub's hard cranium makes a rampart for the hinder extremity, which is less well defended.
She may not have been versed in French, Tessie, but she was wise in feminine wiles. From Chuck, between mouthfuls: "I guess you don't know how good this tastes. Camp grub's all right, but after you've had a few months of it you get so you don't believe there is such a thing as fried chicken and chocolate cake." "I'm glad you like it, Chuck. Here, take this drumstick. You ain't eating a thing!"
Should there be any doubts, I will reply to them with the following experiment. Split lengthwise, the grub's abode leaves a half-tunnel wherein I can watch the occupant's doings. When left alone, it now gnaws the front of its gallery, now rests, fixed by its ambulacra to the two sides of the channel. I avail myself of these moments of quiet to inquire into its power of perceiving sounds.
But I draw the line at plunging into that whirlpool across the street. My bed here is nearly as comfortable as the one at home, and the grub's first-rate." "Very well, dad," agreed Susie, instantly seizing the concession, but speaking as though it were she who was making it, "we'll stay here, then. Only I do wish there were a few more people," she added, with a sigh.
"Come upstairs to my room, Walton," he said, "and have a cigar." "I'll go upstairs with you; but I don't smoke." "You'd better learn. It's a great comfort." "Do you board here?" "Yes. I found I shouldn't have to pay any more than at a boarding house and the grub's better. Here's my room. Walk in." He led the way into a small apartment on the top floor. "This is my den," he said.
That noon, up in their cabin, Shorty placed on the table a pot of beans, a pot of coffee, a pan of sourdough biscuits, a tin of butter and a tin of condensed cream, a smoking platter of moose-meat and bacon, a plate of stewed dried peaches, and called: "Grub's ready. Take a slant at Sally first."
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