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Updated: June 10, 2025
"Yuh, there's too darn many putting in their oar! Rone, you dry up. Howard and I are still pretty strong, and able to do our own cussing. Ted, come into the dining-room and we'll talk this over." In the dining-room, the door firmly closed, Babbitt walked to his son, put both hands on his shoulders. "You're more or less right. They all talk too much. Now what do you plan to do, old man?"
Ted negotiated: "Gee, honest, Rone, I don't want to take the old boat, but I promised couple o' girls in my class I'd drive 'em down to the rehearsal of the school chorus, and, gee, I don't want to, but a gentleman's got to keep his social engagements." "Well, upon my word! You and your social engagements! In high school!" "Oh, ain't we select since we went to that hen college!
He stood in the door of the garage, his lips drooping, and wished that Littlefield or Sam Doppelbrau or somebody would come along and talk to him. He saw Ted sneaking about the corner of the house. "What's the matter, old man?" said Babbitt. "Is that you, thin, owld one? Gee, Ma certainly is on the warpath! I told her Rone and I would jus' soon not be let in on the fiesta to-night, and she bit me.
"Well, the trouble with a lot of these fellows is, they simply don't know what they're talking about. They don't get down to facts.... What do you think of Ken Escott?" "I'll tell you, dad: it strikes me Ken is a nice lad; no special faults except he smokes too much; but slow, Lord! Why, if we don't give him a shove the poor dumb-bell never will propose! And Rone just as bad. Slow."
Gosh, I'd like to take one fellow I know in school that's always shooting off his mouth, and catch him alone " "Nonsense! The idea! Most useless thing I ever heard of!" Babbitt fulminated. "Well, just suppose I was walking with Mama or Rone, and somebody passed a slighting remark or used improper language. What would I do?" "Why, you'd probably bust the record for the hundred-yard dash!"
Ted wailed to Eunice, as they wolfed hot chocolate, lumps of nougat, and an assortment of glace nuts, in the mosaic splendor of the Royal Drug Store, "it gets me why Dad doesn't just pass out from being so poky. Every evening he sits there, about half-asleep, and if Rone or I say, 'Oh, come on, let's do something, he doesn't even take the trouble to think about it.
Sharpe, in his notes to Kirkton, says, on the authority of Wodrow, that Cornet Graham was shot by one John Alstoun, a miller's son, and tenant of Weir of Blackwood. This is not correct. There was a Cornet Graham so killed, but not till three years after Drumclog. "With a pitchfork they made such an openeing in my rone horse's belly."
I found a corner where I was out o' sight o' anybody unless they had come there seekin' me, and I sklimmed up a rone pipe, but a' the windies were lockit and I verra near broke my neck. Syne I tried the roof, and a sore sklim I had, but when I got there there were no skylights. At the end I got in by the coal-hole. That's why ye're maybe thinkin' I'm no' very clean."
The land to the west of the river Loire is AEquitania; to the south of AEquitania is some part of the Narbonense; to the west by south is the territory of Spain; and to the south the ocean. To the south of the Narbonense is the Mediterranean, where the Rone empties itself into the sea, having Provence both on the east and west.
"Yes, I guess you're right. They're slow. They haven't either one of 'em got our pep." "That's right. They're slow. I swear, dad, I don't know how Rone got into our family! I'll bet, if the truth were known, you were a bad old egg when you were a kid!" "Well, I wasn't so slow!" "I'll bet you weren't! I'll bet you didn't miss many tricks!"
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