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Updated: June 11, 2025
Puggy Phillips hazarding his life by standing on the shiny, slightly curved top of his butcher's cart made no appropriate answer. "Yah ah AH!" he screamed in ecstasy. "Oh! played! Pla-a-a-ayed!!"
"Upon my soul, this is too rich for me! The unadulterated cow is a deal too strong to be drunk alone. If you'll allow me I'll qualify it with a drop of gin. Here, Puggy, Puggy!" He set the milk down before the dog; and, taking a flask out of his pocket, emptied it at a draught. "That's something like!" he said, smacking his lips with an air of infinite relief.
Fisher's weary eye wandered round the dusty and dreary inn parlor and rested dreamily on a glass case containing a stuffed bird, with a gun hung on hooks above it, which seemed to be its only ornament. "Puggy was a humorist," he observed, "at least in his own rather grim style. But it seems rather too grim a joke for a man to buy a packet of sandwiches when he is just going to commit suicide."
Dear, it really isn't safe to be writing like this, after reading it you will suppose that it's just you that I am lonely for, but of course I'd be glad for Phil or Puggy Crewden or your nice solemn Walter MacMonnies or any suitor who would make foolish noises & hide me from the wind's hunting. Now I will seal this up & NOT send it in the morning. Your playmate Ruth
"One more such word, and I clap you in irons!" said Trent, rising gleefully at the face of opposition. "And where would I be the while you were doin' ut?" asked Mac. "After you and your rigging, too! Ye ould puggy, ye haven't the civility of a bug, and I'll learn ye some." His voice did not even rise as he uttered the threat; no man present, Trent least of all, expected that which followed.
That set all talking, and long before midnight Chinn's brain was in a whirl with stories of tigers man-eaters and cattle-killers each pursuing his own business as methodically as clerks in an office; new tigers that had lately come into such-and-such a district; and old, friendly beasts of great cunning, known by nicknames in the mess-such as "Puggy," who was lazy, with huge paws, and "Mrs.
Aversion rose in her, bitter and momentary. "Nesty, tippling puggy!" she thought; and the next moment she had knocked guardedly at Archie's door and was bidden enter.
"Was he blind? Or blind drunk?" "Neither, by the look of him," replied the other. "Then it was suicide." "It doesn't seem a cozy way of doing it," remarked the man called Fisher. "Besides, I don't fancy poor old Puggy would commit suicide, somehow." "Poor old who?" inquired the wondering journalist. "Did you know this unfortunate man?"
"Troth," said I, "my affection for my king, God bless the puggy face of him, is under more control; and I thought I saw death so near to me this day already, that I am rather taken up with the notion of living." "Right," she said, "the right mind of a man! Only you must learn arms; I would not like to have a friend that cannot strike.
She then demanded his name "in case, sir, any gentleman should call, you know." "Name?" said he, "what's your name?" "My name is Mrs. Booth." "Then I am Mr. Booth." And so he was known, the boys along the river-side calling him "Puggy Booth," and the tradesmen "Admiral Booth," the theory being that he was an old admiral in reduced circumstances.
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