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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Wal, yis, 'tis hard sleddin' for the deacon drefful hard sleddin. Wal, naow, s'pose you're disapp'inted shouldn't wonder jes' so. Eddication's a good thing, but 'taint the only thing naow; folks larns a sight rubbin' round the world and then they make money.
"Yer always bleed'n' well preachin' it's bad enough 'avin' Fritz over us without you bloody well rubbin' it in. If yer don't shut yer mouth, I'll come over an' shut it for yer, 'struth I will."
Another suggestion that Crass made to Misery was that the sub-foremen should be instructed never to send a man into a room to prepare it for painting. 'If you sends a man into a room to get it ready, said Crass, ''e makes a meal of it! 'E spends as much time messin' about rubbin' down and stoppin' up as it would take to paint it.
"What have you been doing up there?" "Oh, knocking around with some Shoshones on a hunting trip." "Well, by mighty, I certainly am glad to see ye. You look thin as a spring steer." "My looks don't deceive me then. My two sides are rubbin' together. How are the folks?" "They ah very well, thank you. Cora and Pink will certainly go plumb crazy when they see you a-comin'." "Where's your house?"
But it is "162" that will do the kicking. "The Mark Boat's mad stark ravin' crazy," he snorts, returning to command. "She says there's a bad blow-out ahead and wants me to pull over to Greenland. I'll see her pithed first! We wasted half an hour fussing over that dead duck down under, and now I'm expected to go rubbin' my back all round the Pole. What does she think a Postal packet's made of?
The men who gazed on him from the waist saw in his resolution only stubborn determination to punish them. "He's sartinly the obstinatest man that ever lowered his head at ye," said Zeburee Nute, breaking in on the apprehensive mumble of his fellows. "He won't stop at northin' when he's mad. Look what he's done in Smyrna. But I call this rubbin' it in a darn sight more'n he's got any right to do."
And when they looked up Leander was alone settin' there on the platform, kind of rubbin' his eyes alone." There was silence in the store. Josiah Nummler's pipe was going full blast, and while the white cloud hid him from the others, I could see a gentle smile on his fat face. "Mighty son's!" cried Henry Holmes, "that there's unpossible."
"A rolling stone gathers no moss, so I've heard. Is that the way with you?" Reynolds asked, with a twinkle to his eyes. "I may git no moss, young man, an' not become a fossil like some of the fellers in big cities, but I git a heap of rubbin' with me rollin', an' that keeps me brightened up." "But how did you get here ahead of me?" Reynolds questioned.
If I'd been pesterin' you all day long to go down thar to look at that ploughin', you'd be settin' in yo' chair now, plum dry." Amos Burr crossed to the stove and turned his dripping back to the heat. "Gimme a rubbin' down, Sairy Jane," he pleaded, and his daughter took a dry cloth and began mopping off the water. Marthy Burr placed an iron on the stove and took one off.
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