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"Meanin'? Gee! it don't need a mule's intellec' to get my meanin'," said the loafer witheringly. "Wot, in the name o' glory, would I mean but this doggone ride we're takin'? Say, here's us three muttons chasin' glory on the tail o' two soppy lambs that ain't got savvee enough between 'em to guess the north end of a hoss when he's goin' south.
He's the most no-'count, measleyest little thing that ever called himself a man. My word! I'd like to see him try to ride that colt o' mine. I really would. It would be some sight for sore eyes, it sure would." "Mebbe he's got a intellec'," suggested Long Bill, after another mile. "That goes a long ways with women-folks with a education." "No chance!" said Jasper, confidently.
On the whole he thought that prog had a compound meaning it was a combination of poke and pull "wid a flavour ob ticklin' about it," and was rather pleasant. "You see," he continued, "when a leetle fish plays wid your hook, it progs your intellec' an' tickles up your fancy a leetle. When he grabs you, dat progs your hopes a good deal. When a big fish do de same, dat progs you deeper.
"The Poly.," said Booty, "really was a Club, 'where," he underlined it, "'every reasonable facil'ty shall bee offered fer the formation of a steadfast character, and of true friendships; fer trainin' the intellec' " "Int'lec' be blowed," said Ransome. "'And fer leadin' an upright, unselfish life. Day by day," read Booty, "'the battle of life becomes more strenuous.
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