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"You'd think so, if you'd followed me," I replied. "Well, what in the d l ails your horse?" "Well, sir, he fell in the Chicago River," was my answer. Stepping to the animal, he rubbed his fingers over the rough, sticky hair, and then placing them to his nose, said: "Don't smell bad, looks's though he'd been dyed." "Well, I wish to he'd died before I ever saw him."
"Say, Dad, it looks's if we wouldn't hev to lay more'n two weeks on the Shoals. You'll meet all the comp'ny you want then, Harve. That's the time we begin to work. No reg'lar meals fer no one then. 'Mug-up when ye're hungry, an' sleep when ye can't keep awake. Good job you wasn't picked up a month later than you was, or we'd never ha' had you dressed in shape fer the Old Virgin."
Charles Phillips, "'cordin' to everybody's tell," was keeping company with Maud Hunniwell. "There ain't no doubt of it," declared Mr. Bearse. "All hands is talkin' about it. Looks's if Cap'n Sam would have a son-in-law on his hands pretty soon. How do you cal'late he'd like the idea, Shavin's?" Jed squinted along the edge of the board he was planing. He made no reply. Gabe tried again.
"Hully Gee!" commented Shorty, balancing a drum with care on the end of it, "I'm thinkin' he ain't far out. Looks's ef de hull shop'd come along." It did when it was all in place. A trumpet and a gun that had made vain and perilous efforts to join the bat in the stocking leaned against the bed in expectant attitudes.
Luther Hansen swept the horizon with the air of one who knew the signs, backing his horse about to see on all sides as he did so. "Th' don't seem t' be any clouds," he said in surprise. "Ain't it queer! Looks's if it might be some kind of eclipse," he said.
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