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I was a little huffed at that, and I sez: 'It's considered a very beautiful color. 'Mebbe it is, sez he, 'but I never cared much for fireworks. 'What yer mean? sez I. 'Look here, Squire! sez he; 'I don't mind scourin' and rubbin' down a hoss that will stay the same color TWICE, but when he gets to playin' a kaladeoskope on me, I kick! 'Trot him out, sez I, beginnin' to feel queer.
Sometimes you kin whiten a hide by rubbin' it with white clay, if you can git any clay. That might take you a few days longer. Oh, yes, I reckon you kin git the hide tanned if you live long enough. You'd ought to put up a sign, 'Captain Franklin, Attorney at Law, an' Hide Tanner." Franklin laughed heartily at Curly's sarcasm.
Then what did y' do? Hey? What?" "Just took it down 'n' rubbed it." "M-m-m! Well, y' made a poor job of your rubbin'. I'll say that!" "I'll rub it again," said Johnnie. He caught up the dish towel with which he had dried his own face and set to work on the lamp. There was a faint smile on his lips as he worked. There was a smile in his eyes, too, but he kept his lids discreetly lowered.
I don't hold with the Press mingling up with Service matters. They draw false conclusions. Now, mark you, at a moderate estimate, there were seven thousand men in the fighting line, half of 'em hurt in their professional feelings, an' the other half rubbin' in the liniment, as you might say. All due to Persimmon! If you 'adn't seen it you wouldn't 'ave believed it.
"'I hain't got no money to go to cirkises, I says, rubbin' the dusty toes o' one foot over t' other, 'nor nothin' else, I says. "'Wa'al, he says, 'why don't you crawl under the canvas? "That kind o' riled me, shy 's I was. 'I don't crawl under no canvases, I says. 'If I can't go in same 's other folks, I'll stay out, I says, lookin' square at him fer the fust time.
And how did you find Florida?" "Easy," says I. "We looked it up on the map." "No, no," says Piddie; "I mean, how was the weather down there?" "No weather at all," says I. "They just have climate. How are things around the shop, though?" "Very satisfactory," says Piddie, rubbin' his hands. "Bound to be," says I, "with you and Mr. Robert sittin' on the lid."
"Next car!" sings out the Johnny Flip, slammin' the door. Now wa'n't that rubbin' it in? "Coises!" says I. "Deep coises!" and walks down eleven flights with a temperature that would have got me condemned by any boiler inspector in the business. The candy? That goes to one of the pie-faced maids where I lives. The nerve of that Izzy, though!
Arfter lookin' 'roun' a little while an' tryin' de do' to see ef it wuz shet, he walked down de road tell he got to de creek. He stop' dyar a little while an' picked up two or three little rocks an' frowed 'em in, an' pres'n'y he got up an' we come on home. Ez he got down, he tu'ned to me an', rubbin' de sorrel's nose, said: 'Have 'em well fed, Sam; I'll want 'em early in de mawnin'.
"Hu-um! . . . Well, I declare! . . . Now you mention it, there don't seem to be any screwdriver, does there? . . . Here 'tis on the bench. . . . And I was rubbin' the sandpaper with ile, or ilin' the sandpaper with the rag, whichever you like. . . . Hum, ye-es, I should think it might have looked funny. . . . Babbie, if you see me walkin' around without any head some mornin' don't be scared.
"I wouldn't go far without her," said Mary, brightly. "I say," responded the hostess, with her back turned, and said no more. "Sister," said the spy, "we'll want the buggy." "All right," responded the sister. "I'll go feed the hosses," said he, and went out. In a few minutes he returned. "Joe must give 'em a good rubbin' when he comes, sister," he said.
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