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Updated: June 25, 2025
When he can't fulfil 'em, why, it's up to him to hit the trail for the pay box, an' get out. Guess you feel good when you see a boy swingin' an axe, or handlin' a peavy. Sure. That sort of thing don't come your way often. Neither does it come your way to see the rest. He's mostly a sink of filth in mind and body, and if he ain't all that at the start he gets it quick.
Indeed, only the pressure of work prevented some of the more aggressive of Orde's rear among whom could be numbered the Rough Red from going back and "cleaning out" this impertinent band of hangers-on. One day two of the latter, conducting the jam of the miniature drive astern, came within reach of the Rough Red. The latter had lingered in hopes of rescuing his peavy, which had gone overboard.
To lose one's peavy is, among rivermen, the most mortifying disgrace. Consequently, the Rough Red was in a fit mood for trouble. He attacked the two single-handed. A desperate battle ensued, which lasted upward of an hour.
Pretty soon several logs, held together by natural cohesion, floated to the bend, hesitated, swung slowly and stopped. Other logs, following, carromed gently against them and also came to rest. Immediately the riverman made a flying leap to the nearest. He hit it with a splash that threw the water high to either side, immediately caught his equilibrium, and set to work with his peavy.
Invariably upon these humiliating occasions when Symes dined cheek by jowl with hoi polloi who left their spoons in their cups and departed using a toothpick like a peavy, his thoughts turned to his coming triumph in Crowheart.
For a full half minute the man crouched breathless, and Orde, his ruddy face congested, held his threatening attitude. Then he dropped his peavy and stepped aside. "March!" he commanded. "Get your turkey and hit the hay trail. You'll get your time at Redding." The man sullenly arose and slouched away, grumbling under his breath.
Chairman, I move that Colonel Peavy and Amos Ridings escort the nominee to the platform." The motion was put and carried amid laughter. As they dragged Bradley out of his chair and pushed him up the aisle, everybody laughed and cheered. William Councill kicked the Colonel as he went past and Robie hit him a sounding slap between the shoulders. The Colonel bore it all with astonishing good nature.
Tolley called "halmy," with that good lady, without somehow attracting the boys to the table, where they hung, championing and criticising. Paul was more amused than surprised to find Mrs. Peavy having tea with the other ladies on the porch less than a week later. The little mother looked scared and shamed; but Mrs.
Shining stove-pipe hats were choice game, and to throw a core clean through a silk hat was a distinction which everybody seemed to covet. In five minutes not a tall hat was to be seen. Colonel Peavy wrapped his handkerchief around his, thus drawing upon himself the attack of the entire crowd, and he was forced to retreat. Then they threw at faces and bald heads. The uproar redoubled.
Father love supernal gleamed in The Laird's fine gray eyes. "Were you a fool, my son, and all that I have in the world would cure you if thrown into the Bight of Tyee, I'd gladly throw it and take up my life where I began it with pike-pole and peavy, double-bitted ax, and cross-cut saw. However, since you're not a fool, I intend to continue to enjoy my son. We'll go around the world together."
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