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There's a man down California Street I wanta see before I leave and I'll stroll down that way. You think it over, and meet me at eleven-thirty up in that disfiguration old Squinty calls a loungin' room. So long." He turned abruptly and strode away. Hiram watched his erect figure and firm step till the crowd hid him, then followed more slowly in the same direction.
Then they skimmed it down till you’d think they had all month an’ a handful of extra Sundays to git wherever they was goin’. Plumb wore me down amblin’ ’long th’ way they did. I sure ’nough ’bout scraped off my hoss’s hoofs cuttin’ down his speed. "Spent a whole day jus’ loungin’ ’round in one camp. I’d say they was waitin’ for someone—only nobody ever showed.
"Darn it all," said the Clockmaker, rising with great animation, clinching his fist, and extending his arm, "darn it all, it fairly makes my dander rise, to see the nasty idle, loungin' good-for-nothin', do-little critters; they ain't fit to tend a bear-trap, I vow.
Only they was short-circuited somewhere. And it seemed like a blamed shame. Half an hour more and I'd located Mr. Robert at his club. He ain't very enthusiastic, either, when one of the doormen tows me into the corner of the loungin' room where he's sittin' behind a tall glass gazin' moody at nothin' in particular. "I suppose you told her all about it!" says he. "And then a few," says I.
"He didn't use to stay but a week or two at a time, and all the rest o' the fishermen have been gone some time now; and he keeps them horses down here, and goes loungin' around with no more object than a butterfly in December." "I tell ye he's a makin' up to Beck," said Grandpa Keeler, with the knowing air of an old man accustomed to fathom mysteries of this peculiar nature.
""Which this agitated sport," observes Waco coldly to Shoestring Griffith, who comes loungin' up likewise, "asks whoever does these yere dastard deeds! Does you-all recall the fate, Shoestring, of the last misguided shorthorn who gives way to sech a query? My mem'ry is never ackerate as to trifles, an' I'm confoosed about whether he's shot or hung or simply burned alive."
That's jist the case at Halifax. The old folks say the country is too young the time will come, and so on; and in the mean time the young folks won't wait, and run off to the States, where the maxim is, 'youth is the time for improvement; a new country is never too young for exertion push on keep movin go ahead. Darn it all, said the Clockmaker, rising with great animation, clinching his fist, and extending his arm darn it all, it fairly makes my dander rise, to see the nasty idle loungin good for nothin do little critters they aint fit to tend a bear trap, I vow.
Zenobia laughed too, and, lazily turning the chair around, dropped into it. "And by this time George Lee's loungin' back in his chyar and smokin' his cigyar somewhar in Sacramento," she added, stretching her feet out to the fire, and suiting the action to the word with an imaginary cigar between the long fingers of a thin and not over-clean hand.
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