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Updated: May 19, 2025
Them's my sentiments, mates! and you can read 'em how you like, Mr. Netlips. God's in heaven we know, but there's onny churches on earth, an' we 'as to make sure whether there's men or devils inside of 'em 'fore we goes kneelin' and grubbin' in front of 'uman idols Good-night t'ye!"
Don't be harbourin' any sintiments at all, Clancy. "'I can't help it, says I; 'I'm full of 'em. I enlisted in the revolutionary army of this dark country in good faith to fight for its liberty, honours and silver candlesticks; instead of which I am set to amputatin' its scenery and grubbin' its roots. 'Tis the general man will have to pay for it.
She's got spunk. When she catches anybody in a mean trick she don't quote poetry to 'im; she gives 'im the straight goods. Some folks call that temper. I call it sand. There'll be a picnic when she gets hold o' Barden!" Parker raised the field-glass again, and leveled it on the Starkweather homestead. "There's the infant now, grubbin' greasewood.
Try to bring before the young man's defective mental vision a dissolving view of a "good old-fashioned barn-raisin' " and the old man doing all the "raisin' " himself, and "grubbin'," and "burnin' " logs and "underbrush," and "dreenin' " at the same time, and trying to coax something besides calamus to grow in the spongy little tract of swamp-land that he could stand in the middle of and "wobble" and shake the whole farm.
"The divil's in it all," said Mick, with a sudden bitter vehemence, which he accounted for to himself by adding, as he pointed toward the seething white line: "D' you see where that's come to, you little bosthoon? And you sittin' grubbin' away here as if you were pitaty-diggin' a dozen mile inland."
A gentleman's church or a peasant's church? Look at the priests, John Marsh, look at them! My God, what bounders! Little greedy, grubbin' blighters, livin' for their Easter offerin's, an' doin' damn little for their money. What do you think takes them into the church? Love of God? Love of man? No, bedam if it is.
There could hardly be anything wrong. Hurriedly he returned to the barn. "Wal, I'll tell you," Blinky was holding forth blandly, "this heah grubbin' around without a home an' a woman ain't no good. I'm shore through. I'm agoin' " "Nobody home," interrupted Pan. "Well, that's nothin' to make you pale round the gills," returned his father. "They're gone to town. Mother had a lot of buyin' to do."
Here are WE hard-working men with lots of sabe, too grubbin' away on this hillside like niggers, glad to get enough at the end of the day to pay for our soggy biscuits and horse-bean coffee, and just look what falls into the lap of some lazy sneakin' greenhorn who never did a stoke of work in his life!
"Well, we had good sport plenty of b'ar and moose steaks, no end of fresh eggs of all sorts, and enough o' pelts to make it pay. You see we didn't know there was gold here in those days, so we didn't look for it, an' wouldn't ha' knowed it if we'd seen it. But I never myself cared to look for gold. It's dirty work, grubbin' among mud and water like a beaver.
"Fox and I wuz sayin' yesterday we'd like to put another man on the ditch; it'll be easy work fer a week, till we strike rock again. Then there's the greasewood. It's always on hand. You might take it slow, grubbin' when you wuz able. I guess we'll find you jobs enough, man." The scarred, colorless face brightened. "Thank ye, neighbor. Ef you'll be so kind, there's another little matter.
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