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Updated: June 16, 2025
Somehow or other, Terry seemed to be thinking more about the three Winnebago horsemen with whom Fred Linden had had his encounter than he did about his own experience. "How thim spalpeens could be ridin', whin all the rist are afoot, is somethin' that puzzles me," said he, after they had walked some distance further; "can't ye give some explanation that will relaave me mind, Fred?"
I don't reckon now there is a man among us who could be induced to blat or to butt, under the most tryin' circumstances. My Mary's got a little lamb, and all the rist of the boys are lambs. But all the lambs are waned, and clusterin' round the milk pail. Ain't that touchin'? Come on, now, Ruben, ile up and edify us some more!" "On what point do you seek enlightenment?" inquired the Thread Man.
It's a thrap to do away wid ye I heard 'em cookin' it!" "An' ye wudn't be sellin' 'em to me at twinty-five, eh?" he said, aloud. "Go 'long wid ye ye're a domned hold-up man, like all the rist av thim!" And he slapped the black horse playfully in the ribs and laughed gleefully as the animal lunged at him, ears laid back, mouth open.
The entire party was bubbling with that enthusiasm and eagerness felt by all "sightseers" who find themselves drawing near to this great natural marvel of America. Eagerly they peered from the car windows in their desire to obtain the first glimpse of the falls. "I can see some mising rist that is, some rising mist," spluttered Harry Rattleton.
His huge clamping right hand crushed George's, while the left described an arc heavenwards. Came a throaty gurgle, a careless swing of the arm, and "Be lay loike a warrior takin' his rist, Wid his "I misrimimber th' tail-ind av ut," sighed Sergeant Slavin, "'Tis toime we turned in." In silence they re-entered the detachment.
He luks over some papers an' sez he: 'A change an' a rist is fwhat yu' need, Sarjint Guy. There's a dhraft leavin' next week for Herschell Island I think I will mark yu up fur ut. "'Herschell Island? sez pore Nobby, an' wid that he let's out a howl. "'Tut, tut! sez ould Knockemorf, who was wise tu th' man's throuble. 'Tis safer off there'll yu'll be, man, than here, I'm thinkin'.
"May the Holy Mother defind him!" cried a voice in the crowd. "He's the praist of me Tim!" "The fraud!" cried another; "he's as bad as the rist! Nary a per cint. would he give me yesterday!" "Hush, ye blatherskite!" hissed another. "Give the lad a chance; he's a-talkin'!" Yes, Job was talking. He did his best.
Oh, this works well and no fear that the Roonies and McBrides should ever come to an understanding to cut me out. Young Mr. Randal Rooney, my humble compliments to you, and I hope you'll become the willow which you'll soon have to wear for Miss Honor McBride's pretty sake. But I wonder the brother a'n't come up yet with the rist of her fortune. Jack! Jenny! Where's Pat?
Gie Him no rist, day nor nicht, till ye get it. Knock, knock, knock, till it be opened till ye." "Weel, Thomas, ye dinna seem sae happy yersel', efter a'. Dinna ye think ye may be like ane that's tryin' to see the face o' whilk ye speyk throu a crack i' the door, in place o' haein patience till it's opened?" But the suggestion was quite lost upon Thomas, who, after a gloomy pause, went on.
"Suppose there was but one of the spalpeens, and he'd been out on a scout, and was on his way back to the rist of the spalpeens with the news, would it be onraisonable to think he would take a little pains to kaap his leggins and moccasins from gittin' damp enough to give him cowld?"
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