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Updated: June 13, 2025
What the dickens induced them to run the risk of duffing here? Maddest thing I ever knew. Martin has been living here since this day week; and his greatest pleasure in life is prowling round when he ought to be asleep." "Warrigal Alf laid Mosey on," I replied. "At least, he said he had stayed here the night before last, and had taken his bullocks out after they lay down."
"That comes to $4. I'll take the lot and treat the boys. Here's your money. Now you've got no more business in camp, jest turn around and mosey for home. You've made a good day's business, and ought to be satisfied." The woman scowled with disappointment. But she wisely concluded that she h'd better be content with the compromise, remounted her horse and disappeared down the road.
The fact of the matter was the king was dangerous and Scraggs had glutted himself with revenge. "I don't want to beat an old man to death," he gasped finally. "I'll let the scoundrel go. He's had enough and he won't fight. Let's mosey along back to the schooner and leave them here to amuse themselves the best way they know how." "Right-O," said Mr.
Lord! how I laughed that night! I seen Martin watchin us nex' mornin', after we started. He's got a set on me for that, among other things." "Hasn't Warrigal Alf got a set on you too?" asked Thompson coldly. "Strikes me, you're not the safest man in the world to travel with." "Yes, Alf gives me the prayers o' the Church now an' agen," replied Mosey complacently.
Bum simply lay where he was. I would do my companions what honour I can, but the stern code of the chronicler permits no quibbling with the fact that Mosey and Bum wound up the evening with a series of gestes and apothegms, such as must not tarnish these pages Willoughby occasionally taking part, rather, I think, through courtesy than sympathy, and ably closing the service with a fescennine anecdote, beginning, 'It is related that, on one occasion, the late Marquis of Waterford'
Verne heard you Moses, it would be the last time you'd poke your nose in there, I can tell ye Mister Mosey." "Well, now see here, Melindy. I see town is makin' you too toney, what's the use of cuttin' a fellar up so when he makes a little mistake?" "Well, say Sunnybank, and I won't be findin' any more fault." "Well, Sunnybank! Aint that right Melindy?"
"If we have to do any loafing," he went on to say, philosophically, "we can put in the time at the Courier office, just as well as anywhere else. I always did want to mosey around that place, and while Mr. Hanks is away, perhaps I'll have a chance to handle a few type, and watch the regular comp work like lightning. The smell of printers' ink seems to draw me, Hugh, to tell you the honest truth."
Price and Dixon obeyed, and Mosey laid his powerful bottlejack on the rail, filling up the space, and began to turn it with a long bolt, by way of lever. "You see, Tom," he remarked to me; "this fixter'll put the crooked maginnis on any fence from ere to 'ell. It's got to come.
If the store bill ain't paid to-night, out you go to-morrow, or else pay rent. Tell your mother that for me. Mosey off now. 'Marche, donc! There's no other way." Little Baptiste had not told his mother of this terrible threat, for what was the use? She had no money.
Must n't oversleep in the mornin', if the place is ever so safe." Then I disposed my possum rug and saddle, took off my boots, spread my coat for Pup to sleep on, lit my pipe, and lay down for the night. Thompson, Mosey, and Willoughby arranged themselves here and there, according to taste. Dixon and Methuselah retired to hammocks under the rear of their respective wagons.
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