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Updated: May 2, 2025
If you stay, I stay too, and there's an end of it. Now, then, snuff the candle and hunt out some prog. I've been so that everything I put into my mouth tasted like sawdust, but I feel now as if I could eat like anything. Look sharp." "Do you mean this?" cried Aleck, turning to his companion, excitedly. "Of course I do," said the middy, merrily. "Think you're the only gentleman in the world?"
Cad Prog roared as loud as he could, so did his little sister, so did the baby, so did Jimmy Bates, so did Joe Bobbins, so did Harry Rasper, so did I. I did not care what happened; I went for Cad Prog, and have a vague idea of my hand and his nose being near together, and louder yells still.
When I had finished he drew his hand slowly down his beard and a thick sound came from behind his fingers. But he did not speak. Then I suggested quietly that Phil's dollars could be put to a better use than for prog and liquor.
As a youngster I was called "Socks Smith." In more recent years I have been hailed as "Foxy Old Smith," and by a few friends as "Old Prog. Smith," but as I review my record for the past two months it seems to me that I am fairly entitled to be called "Lucky Smith." Of least importance, but none the less satisfying has been the wonderful improvement in my golf game.
You see I've brought prog enough to last all hands for three days or more, on somewhat short commons; and mayhap we may snare some game to eke it out much longer." This was good news, for, by taking proper precautions, I thought we might at all events avoid falling into the hands of the Spaniards; and of the Indians I had no fear.
Sancho had recourse to the larder of his alforjas and took out of them what he called the prog; Don Quixote rinsed his mouth and bathed his face, by which cooling process his flagging energies were revived. Out of pure vexation he remained without eating, and out of pure politeness Sancho did not venture to touch a morsel of what was before him, but waited for his master to act as taster.
At that time we were hidden in a copse of underwood, with a large oak in the centre, covered with ivy, "I think so, too, O'Brien; shall we go up now, or wait a little?" "Now, to be sure, that they're eating their prog. Mount you, Peter and I'll help you." O'Brien shoved me up the tree, and then, waiting a little while to bury our haversacks among the leaves, he followed me.
On the whole he thought that prog had a compound meaning it was a combination of poke and pull "wid a flavour ob ticklin' about it," and was rather pleasant. "You see," he continued, "when a leetle fish plays wid your hook, it progs your intellec' an' tickles up your fancy a leetle. When he grabs you, dat progs your hopes a good deal. When a big fish do de same, dat progs you deeper.
"Well, it wasn't long afore I began to feel pretty empty an' mean, an' if I'd wanted any of the prog we got out the day afore, I couldn't have found much, fur the men had eat it up nearly all in the night.
There's a file what don't sing; can't deceive my ear; I know all their voices. Don't let me find that un out, or I won't walk into him, won't I? Ayn't you lucky boys, to have reg'lar work like this, and the best of prog! It worn't my lot, I can tell you that. Give me that shut, you there, Scrubbynose, can't you move? Look sharp, or I won't move you, won't I? Steady, steady! All right!
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