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"Paris is a grand place, a genuine daisy; but I believe it is wickeder'n Santa Fe wuz when the rush war to New Mexico." Grace explained to Jordan that they were going down to Sussex to visit some relatives of Rose, and begged him to go along, and bespoke for him a hearty welcome. "I'm greatly obleeged, Miss," said Jordan, "but I must beg yo' ter 'scuse me. I must see my hoss home.
"You must 'scuse me for coming unexpected," she said, softly, "but I really didn't know I was coming here until I arrived. I was lost in the woods, you know, and I'm as hungry as anything." "Hungry!" they murmured, in a horrified chorus. "Yes; I haven't had anything to eat since last night's supper," she exclaimed. "Are there any eatables in Bunbury?"
"Scuse me, colonel, sah, for de liberty," Sam burst out; "but look at me, sah; is dis right, sah, is it right to make joke like dis on de man dat play de big drum of de regiment?" "No, no, Sam; not at all right," the colonel said, with difficulty.
"Gad!" he exclaimed. "That's what I've been forgetting the little fish. I must get after some of them. They may turn the scale in our favor. Little fish! That's it. Small fry, when you can't get big ones! I wonder " There was a knock at the door and Shag entered, bowing and saluting military style at the same time. "Scuse me, Colonel, sah," he began, "but does yo' want t' heah any news?"
Somebody to cook the food, somebody to keep the house, and somebody to mend the clothes. His reverie was broken in upon by Sally Griggs' voice. "Hit do seem lak you mighty deep in t'ought dis evenin', Brothah Hayward. I done spoke to you twicet." "Scuse me, Sistah Griggs, my min' has been mighty deeply 'sorbed in a little mattah o' doctrine. What you say to me?"
He must be a "gabber" for the nonce, a free talker, a chatterer, who would cover up all pauses. "Kind of strange to ride into a dark town like this," he began, "but I could tell you a story about " "Oh, Steve," called the voice of Sally from the kitchen. He rose and nodded to Bard. "'Scuse me, I'll be back in a minute." "Thanks," answered the other, with a somewhat grim emphasis.
Chad continued his search, his wrinkled brown hand, with its extended forefinger capped by its stumpy nail, looking for all the world like a mud turtle with head out crawling over the crumpled surface of the map. "Scuse me till I run down to de kitchen an' git my spec's. I can't see like" "Here, take mine!" said Fitz, handing him his gold ones.
Fortunately for him, in his temper of that moment, Pete Willing reeled into the shop, two-thirds drunk, with his face smeared with blood from a cut on his forehead. "'Scuse me," he muttered huskily. "Kin I see you a minute, Doc?" He reeled and almost fell would have fallen had not Duncan caught his arm and guided him to a chair. "Great Scott, Pete!" he cried. "What's happened to you?"
He hain't right easy ter git along wid when he's a-singin'. But if you'll 'scuse me, suh, I gotter take care o' old Hec. Jest make yourself to home, suh, anyways you like."
Li'l' black Mose he jes drap' on he knees an' he beg' an' pray': "Oh, 'scuse me! 'Scuse me, Mistah Ghost!" he beg'. "Ah ain't mean no harm at all." "Whut for you try to take my head?" ask' de ghost in dat fearsome voice whut like de damp wind outen de cellar. "'Scuse me! 'Scuse me!" beg' li'l' Mose. "Ah ain't know dat was yo' head, an' I ain't know you was dar at all. 'Scuse me!"
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