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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Remember the Bricklayers' Picnic at Weasel Park?" Billy was asking. "An' the foot race? Why, I'd know that nose of yours anywhere among a million. You was the guy that stuck your cane between Timothy McManus's legs an' started the grandest roughhouse Weasel Park or any other park ever seen." The visitor now commenced to laugh. He stood on one leg as he laughed harder, then stood on the other leg.
"About eight minutes, I should say," replied Hugh Maynard, the big Captain of the Eagles. "Well, eight minutes," continued Patricia, taking up the tale, "and then they began the roughhouse business. Jumbo Larson a terribly big Swede, Mamma put it all over little Snoopy. Chucked him about, wiped the ice with him!" "My dear!" exclaimed her mother. "Well, you know what I mean.
As soon as he caught sight of the cowpuncher he strode forward. The straight line of his set mouth looked like a gash in a melon. "Will you have it here or back of the garage?" he demanded, getting straight to business. "Any place that suits you," agreed Steve affably. "Won't the bulls pinch us if we do a roughhouse here?" Harrison turned with triumphant malice to Farrar. "Get your camera.
"Hurrah for Roughhouse, the brave man who leads working girls to defeat in order that he may retain leadership and drive intelligent effort out of the cause of labour," wrote The Skipper. Sam looked at the sheets and out of the window where a snow storm raged. It seemed to him that a crime was being done and he was sick and disgusted at his own inability to stop it.
Maybe you can take the key from us; but you know what you'll have to do to us first." Blake stared at him with morose, bloodshot eyes. "You're dotty!" he growled. "You know you can't stop me, once I'm under way. I don't want to roughhouse it, but I want something for this thirst, and I'm going to have it. Understand?" "H'm. If that's all," said Griffith.
I got to be home at seven, you know. "We sat down and went on playing. The Trimble gang had a roughhouse for sure. They were getting good and drunk. They'd drink a while and holler a while, and then they'd shoot up a few bottles and glasses. Two or three times they came and tried to open our door. Then there was some more shooting outside, and I looked out the window again.
"If he don't let go, you just press real hard, an' out pop his eyes, an' he's blind as a bat for the rest of his life. Oh, he'll let go all right all right." He released her and lay back laughing. "How d'ye feel?" he asked. "Those ain't boxin' tricks, but they're all in the game of a roughhouse." "I feel like revenge," she said, trying to apply the "come along" to his arm.
Do you like boys?" "When they don't put on airs or get roughhouse," replied Trot. "My 'sperience with boys is that they don't know much, but think they do." "That's true," he answered. "I don't like boys much better than I do girls, but some are all right, and you seem to be one of 'em." "Much obliged," laughed Trot.
She don't seem nervous or panicky at all, like most women would, breakin' in on a roughhouse scene like that. She don't even stare reprovin', but stands there watchin' us as serene as if we wa'n't anything more'n pictures on a movie sheet. And there we was, holdin' the pose; me with my right all bunched for action, and Swifty with his face to the mat.
Tell us, Frank," Janet persisted. So Frank found himself compelled to relate the whole circumstance. In his usual generous manner he tried to gloss over the conduct of Puss and spoke as though the other had tumbled overboard during a little boyish roughhouse business; but Janet knew of the enmity between the pair, and she could read between the lines.
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