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My sheath-knife never cut into better sea-beef than that which we found lying in the kid in the forecastle. The bread, too, was hard, dry, and brittle as glass; and there was plenty of both. While we were below, the mate of the vessel called out for someone to come on deck. I liked his voice. Hearing it was as good as a look at his face. It betokened a true sailor, and no taskmaster.
The crowd bunched, still laughing at how the singin' kid was going to feel when he rode again to meet them. It would cure him of racing, they said. It would be a good lesson; serve him right for coming in there and thinking, because he had cleaned up once or twice, that he could not be beaten.
He made me tell all what the guy from the fort said over again, three or four times, and then he ast what time he got to the school-house, and whether the Kid had been there at all yest'iday ur t'day; and a lot of other questions, and then he rode alongside each man and told him in just a few words where we was goin' and what the guy from the fort had said.
"Maybe Charley's right about it," she said, her voice low, and soft with that inherited gentleness which must have come from Tim Sullivan's mother, Mackenzie thought. "He's a wise kid, maybe I would want to come back faster than I went away.
If you and I were obliged to dance in tight boots, and make calls in white kid gloves, we should feel like fettered fools." "And be what we felt like," replied Mr. Wharton; "and the worst part of it would be, we shouldn't long have sense enough to feel like fools, but should fall to pitying and despising people who were of any use in the world.
If they are too young, it is too much like kid; if they are too old, it's like sole leather, it's so tough; and if they have been whipt, as all on 'em have a'most, why the back is all cut to pieces, and the hide ruined. It takes several sound nigger skins to make a stole; but when made, it's a beautiful article, that's a fact. "It is used on a plantation for punishment.
Seeing that there was not much to be made out of Fort Erie, the two comrades, Black Jack and the Kid, moved cautiously in the rear of the troops as they fell down the river; their intention being to remain concealed in the vicinity of any point at which an engagement might take place, and then trust to chance for an opportunity of rifling the dead or picking up whatever spoils happened to drop in their way.
He's just down here I was afraid to go very far, for fear of losing him again. Oh, Mr. Green! "My name is Andy," he told her. "What's your name?" "Mine? It's well, it's Rosemary. Never mind now. I should think you'd be just wild to see that poor little fellow he's a brick, though." "I've been wild," said Andy, "over a good many things you, for one. Where's the Kid?"
"Oh, I might stay two or three days this trip," said the Kid, yawning. "I've been on the dodge for a month, and I'd like to rest up." He was gone half an hour for his tobacco. When he returned Tonia was still lying in the hammock. "It's funny," said the Kid, "how I feel. I feel like there was somebody lying behind every bush and tree waiting to shoot me. I never had mullygrubs like them before.
Then, turning to the driver, the tall, impetuous fare clapped another into his extended palm. "There you are, genie!" he exclaimed exultantly, and, grabbing up his bags, was off up the walk as fast as his long legs would carry him. "What was that he called me, kid?" demanded the driver uneasily. "Janie."
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