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Updated: May 4, 2025
Monsieur Profond shrugged his shoulders. "Life's awful like a lot of monkeys scramblin' for empty nuts." "You're young," said Soames. If the fellow must make a generalisation, he needn't suggest that the forms of property lacked solidity! "I don' worry," replied Monsieur Profond smiling; "we're born, and we die.
The birds make music fur ye in the trees. The creek down thar's laughin' an' singing' winter an' summer. The world's too purty an' life's too short ter throw hit away fightin' an' scramblin' fur nothin'." "For something Tom something big " "Don't keer how big 'tis what of it? All turns ter ashes in yer hands bye an' bye an' yer life's gone. We can't live these young days over again, can we?
"We can all see it after it's happened, when it's too late." "But the big men were smarter," Saxon remarked. "They were luckier," Tom contended. "Some won, but most lost, an' just as good men lost. It was almost like a lot of boys scramblin' on the sidewalk for a handful of small change. Not that some didn't have far-seein'. But just take your pa, for example.
Then there was a scramble for the high bank, and I guess the Injuns are scramblin' yet, for they haven't shown up since. It was Pete who first shouted out for the parson, and when he could not be found I thought the old man would go mad. He made for the river with one bound, and the last we heard of him was his cry, "I'm comin', laddie!" and then the flood was upon them."
Monsieur Profond shrugged his shoulders. "Life's awful like a lot of monkeys scramblin' for empty nuts." "You're young," said Soames. If the fellow must make a generalization, he needn't suggest that the forms of property lacked solidity! "I don' worry," replied Monsieur Profond smiling; "we're born, and we die.
To be sure, it kin be put in splints and mended up ag'in, but maybe you'll go limpy or knit crooked so's nothin' kin keep the busted place from showin'. Bearin' that in mind, if I was you, I wouldn't be too careless about scramblin' up into places where you was apt to git a fall.... I calc'late, Sairy, that it's better to miss the view than to fall out of the tree...."
"Bimeby Brer Fox stick his head in de do', en holler out: "'Good evenin', fokes, I wish you mighty well, sezee, en wid dat he make a dash for Brer Rabbit, but Miss Meadows en de gals dey holler en squall, dey did, en Brer Tarrypin he got ter scramblin' roun' up dar on de shelf, en off he come, en blip he tuck Brer Fox on de back er de head.
Bobby's no' deid. Nae doot he's amang the stanes i' the kirkyaird. He's aye scramblin' aboot for vermin an' pussies, an' may hae hurt himsel', an' ye a' ken the bonny wee wadna cry oot i' the kirkyaird. Noo, get to wark, an' dinna stand there greetin' an' waggin' yer tongues.
"Oh, monahs, you may stan' dar er weepin', Fur de brooms uv de Lord is er sweepin', An' all de trash dey's er heapin' Outside er de golden gate. "So, sinners, yer'd better be er tu'nin', Er climin' an' er scramblin' an' er runnin', Fur ter 'scape dat drefful burnin' In de awful jedgment day."
Course, it's a little odd to see a young gent in torn cutaway coat and tousled hair scramblin' around under taxi-cabs and dodgin' cars to pick up cigar-butts and chewin' gum papers. So quite a crowd collects. Some of 'em cheers and some haw-haws. But the overseas vets. don't allow Hartley to let up for a second. "Hey! Don't miss that cigarette stub!" one would call out to him.
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