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There's a kind o' grub in the soil, and it works its way in. It's only jes' recently that it's be'n found out that the po' whites are peaked and backward because they're sick, and now they know a cure fo' it, why hookworm is being driven right out o' the South." "Was there so much of it?"
Tresler permitted himself to lounge over on his elbow and cross his legs with an aggravating air of ease. "For much the same reason that you are only just finishing your grub. I overslept myself." And he watched Jake choke back the furious retort that suddenly leapt to his lips. It was evident, even to the intolerant disposition of the foreman, that it was no time for abuse and anger.
"Aw, too bad!" breathed Woo Chong and slipped quietly away; but after a while he came back. "Too bad!" he repeated. "You my fliend, Misse' Jones." And he laid five dollars by his hand. "Ah, no, no!" protested Rimrock, rising up from his place as if he had suffered a blow. "No money, Woo. You give me my grub and that's enough I haven't got down to that!"
"That's it charge of Stonewall's field hospital just happened to ride into Waite's camp that night damn lucky for you I did young snip there wanted to saw the bone I stopped that liked your face imagined you might be worth saving ain't so sure of it now, or you wouldn't be out in this God forsaken country, eating such grub my name's Fairbain Joseph Wright Fairbain, M.D. contract surgeon for the railroad working on the line?"
This consideration, which is far from a desire to compete with the young gentlemen who strive for farthings and fame, in Grub Street, is my apology for profaning with my unskilled hand the implement ennobled by the use of a Johnson and a Goldsmith, a Fielding and an Addison.
To be sure, he did not despise a grub if he happened to meet one nor a cutworm nor a wire-worm. The wonder of it was that Grandfather Mole ever found anything to eat, for the old gentleman was all but blind. The only good Grandfather Mole's eyes did him was to let him tell darkness from light. They were so small that his neighbors claimed he hadn't any at all.
It is a sordid, humorous-tragic Grub Street beginning for one of the little immortals of letters so many of which, alack! have a similar birth.
It would not be at all surprising if the middle of the earth were a solid lump of gold, a thousand miles thick. But we poor men cannot dig down very deep into the earth. We can only scratch a little dirt off the top, and if we happen to grub up a few pounds of gold we think that we are rich, and the rest of the world thinks so too. But the fairies laugh at us.
Perhaps our fair cousins on the other side of the Atlantic do not grub so energetically as we do. Certainly, with us it is very common for the ladies of the family to be the practical gardeners, the master of the house caring chiefly for a good general effect, with tidy walks and grassplots, and displaying less of that almost maternal solicitude which does bring flowers to perfection.
They lay on their oars and waited for the foe to come up, Cusack shouting meanwhile, "Who'd be afraid of a pack of thieves like you! I wouldn't! I dare you to land and fight us! Dare you to run into us! Dare you to stand still till we lick you! Dare you to do anything but steal other fellows' grub! Ye-ow!" "Now, you fellows," cried Parson, "put it on."
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