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Updated: May 18, 2025
Food and physicians and money are and always will be on the earth. But a "merry heart" is a "continual feast," and "doeth good like-a medicine;" and "loving favor" is "chosen," "rather than gold and silver." Wanted. A Home. Nothing can be meaner than that "Misery should love company."
"Gotta da peach?" asked the Kid in the tongue of Dante, the lover of lovers. "Ah, no, " sighed the vender. "Not for one mont com-a da peach. Too soon. Gotta da nice-a orange. Like-a da orange?" Scornful, the Kid pursued his quest. He entered the all-night chop-house, café, and bowling-alley of his friend and admirer, Justus O'Callahan.
Sneed. "No bears for me. I won't act with one. Why, he'd claw me to pieces!" "Ah, no, Signor!" interrupted Tony. "Bruno he very gentle just-a like-a de little babe. He no hurt-a you, Signor." "Well, I'm not going to take any chances," declared the "grouch." "This is too dangerous." "Ha! I am not afraid!" cried Mr. Switzer.
Henry straightened up from the layer of cloth that was spread before him on the cutting table and passed one hand through his bushy black hair. "I gotta no keek, Mr. Perlmutter," he said. "Just for my contract is up, so I go. That's all. I like-a da job first-class. Mr. Potash ees ver' good man. Mr. Perlmutter ees too." "Then why don't you stay with us?"
Both of Herbert's eyes were swollen tight shut and Eddie was able to see out of only one of his. After sitting restlessly on the porch for a half hour, they got into their car and started for home. "What are you laughing at, Tony?" asked Bob, as they watched the car disappear down the lane. "The boys no-a like-a da work, and-a the bees they no-a like-a da boys."
The Italian surfacers threw aside their picks and shovels and made a ring, dancing excitedly and jeering. The big foreman, whose scepter of authority was commonly a pick-handle for the belaboring of offenders, was not loved. "Kick-a da shin kick-a da shin he like-a da nigger-mans," suggested one of the Italians, but there was no need.
"No," said the latter suddenly. "Dat-a not sharp no! Look-a 'ere; you see dis?" He drew his own knife, and showed it pointing towards Conroy in a damp, swarthy hand, whose knuckles bulged above the haft. His rough, spatulate thumb rasped along it, drawing from it the crepitation that proves an acute edge. "Carve him like-a da pork," he said, in his stage-conspirator's whisper.
Put it up, Morani, for God's sake! You don't need practice." Koppy motioned him roughly back to the bunk on which he had been lying. "You three tell boss that." "Like hell I do!" grumbled Werner, "when I'm off my nut." "Like-a hell I do," repeated Morani fervently. "Like hell I do," agreed Heppel solemnly. "Like hell you all do," Koppy summed up acidly. "And your precious skin " began Werner.
Tony also contained a grievance and a plot. He, too, was a Corrigan hater, and had been primed to see it in others. "How you like-a Mr. Corrigan?" he asked. "You think-a him a nice-a man?" "To hell with 'm," he said. "May his liver turn to water, and the bones of him crack in the cold of his heart.
An' when it is time dey bring me de leetle fish like-a de gold, all fresh, an' de leetle bread-cakes, yais, an' de wine." "That's the style," approved a seaman. Though they did not cease to eat, they were all listening. Tales of food and drink are always sure of a hearing in the fo'c'sle.
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