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An' who but these same polace, I ask ye, was it, gettin' this Tiniment, as has always held it's head up respectable, a-gettin' this Tiniment in the noospapers last winter along of that case of small-pox, an' puttin' a yellow flag out, an afther that nobody a-willin' to give me their washin', an Miss C'rew here as could get no pants to make, an' yerself, Miss Norma, darlint, an' no disrespect to you a-spakin' out so bold, a-layin' idle because of no thayater a-willin' to have ye.
My Fort is the grate moral show bizniss & ritin choice famerly literatoor for the noospapers. That's what's the matter with ME. &c., &c., &c. So I mite go on to a indefnit extent. Twict I've endeverd to do things which thay wasn't my Fort. The fust time was when I undertuk to lick a owdashus cuss who cut a hole in my tent & krawld threw.
"Air you gone, William?" I axed. "Rayther," he replide, and I knowd it was no use to pursoo the subjeck furder. I then called fur my farther. "How's things, daddy?" "Middlin, my son, middlin." "Ain't you proud of your orfurn boy?" "Scacely." "Why not, my parient?" "Becawz you hav gone to writin for the noospapers, my son. Bimeby you'll lose all your character for trooth and verrasserty.
"What's this boy's name, and no lies?" he added after muttering to himself on the same lines volcanically. "How often do you want to be told that, Mr. Wix? This boy's Micky Rackstraw, lives with his grandmother next door.... Well her sister then! It's all as one. Ain't you, Micky?" "Ah! Don't live there, though. Comes easy-like, now and again. Like the noospapers." "He's a young liar, then.
"There ain't nothing much we can rightly do at this minute, Niece Louise," he told her firmly, still patting her morsel of a hand in his huge one. "We'll watch the noospapers and I'll send a telegraph dispatch to the ship news office in N'York and git just the latest word there is 'bout the Curlew. "You be brave, girl you be brave.
And the noospapers 'asn't 'arf been sendin' down to-day ... reporters and photographers ... you oughter seen the crowd as come by the mornin' train ..." "I wonder what they'll get out of Manderton," commented Robin rather grimly to himself as his train puffed leisurely, after the habit of Sunday trains, into the quiet little station.
Closing one eye to accentuate the shrewd vision of the other, and shaking his head continuously to express the steadiness and persistency of his convictions, he indicted Louis Napoleon as the bête noire of European politics. "Don't you let yourself be took in, Mr. Moses," he said, "by any of these here noospapers. They're a bad lot. This here Nicholas, he's a Rooshian so him I say nothin' about.
Hired servants. Congress. Goin' around with a splash of big type in the noospapers." "That's not quite all, Buck." The man at the door shook his head. "A man when he rises doesn't need to go in for well, for vulgar display. There are a heap of other things besides. What about the intellectual side of civilization? What about the advancement of good causes?
Well, I'll do it if so be yer wish it, but I won't take the 'sponsibility of it at the Day o' Judgment. 'I don't want ye to' sez 'e, quite peart. 'I'll take it myself. An' if ye'll believe me, David, 'e sits down an' writes me what 'e calls a 'Memo' of what 'e wants put on the grave stone, an' it's the biggest whopper I've iver seen out o' the noospapers.
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