Thar's nohody likes it, from the culprit, who's standin' thar with the lariat 'round his neck, to the last gent who's come up. This party blunders along, mebby it's a minute, when the culprit, who's plumb disgusted, breaks in. ""That's a hell of a pra'r," he says, "an' I don't want no more of it in mine. Gimme a drink of whiskey, gents, an' swing me off."
One great characteristic of educated society is this: it is always under a certain degree of Restraint. Nohody, in public, speaks out all his mind. Nobody tells the whole truth, at least, in public speeches and writings. How such a man is hounded down! He is every one's enemy. Every one is afraid of him. No one knows what he may say next. And it is quite fit that he should be stopped.
She crossed swiftly to the window and looked out. Her lips curled a little. "Most of them people has been standin' out yonder sence nine o'clock, tryin' to see what sort of lookin' animile I am, Mr. Gwynne. Hain't nohody got any work to do?" "Vulgar curiosity, nothing more," said he, joining her at the window.