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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Shtop dat noise! shtop dat noise!" repeated Hans, raising his head without stirring his body or limbs. His broad face seemed all ablaze from its fiery red color, and the threatening fury throned upon his lowering forehead would almost have annihilated him who encountered it for the first time.
I was sittin' on a bar'l in front of Pat McKibbin's store, corner of Washin'ton and streets. I was watchin' the bar'l, yer Honor, becos Pat McKibbin had some of 'em stole lately, ye see." "Could yer swear to him, Mr. O'Dougherty?" "Could I shwear to me own mother? Hivin rest her sowl! Bedad, I shud know him a thousan' years from now. Didn't he shtop and light his siggar at me poipe?
"There! there! do yez shtop! No more for me; I've plenty," and the Irishman drew his sleeve across his eyes, as if he were wiping an undue accumulation of moisture, while Howard Brandon was scarcely less affected at the touching picture which he had drawn, and which he felt might be realized from his own remissness. "I am sure I cannot tell which is for the best," he added in great perplexity.
Shtop a minnit! Who put y' on Bobs?" "Mind your own business," said Cecil, between his teeth, looking round. "My business, is it? Sure, 'tis my business, if 'tis anny man's on Billabong! Did Miss Norah say y' could ride her pony?" "What's that to you?" "Be gob!" said Murty, "'tis more to me than it is to you, seein' 'tis meself knows Miss Norah's feelin's an' disposition about Bobs!
"I left de village one hot afternoon, and walked all de way t'rough de woods to get to de cabin to help dem poor folks. We had mighty hard times. I catched a cold and couldn't shtop my dunderin' nose one night when it wanted to shneeze, and dat's de way de Shawnee catched me.
Then, all on a sudden, it ceased. A black form started from under the scaffolding to the edge of the bluff. Then again, weird, wild, uncanny, a barbaric, almost savage strain burst from the lips of the girl. "Mother of Heavin!" cried the driver. "Can no one shtop that awful keen. It's her death song she's singin'!" Two young officers sprang from the sleigh, but at the instant another cry arose.
"Ye big murdhering spalpeen," burst out the angry Irishman, "ye think it's a fine thing to try and shtop a man that's trying to do his duty, and think yerself a fightin' man, bekass ye can lick a man that doesn't want to fight. This isn't any Forest Service scrap, mind ye, and I'm saying nothing about logs. I'm talking about your hittin' a weak, half-crazed boy.
Tom did not answer; her eyes were on the cedars where the crows were flying, black silhouettes against the yellow sky. "Did I shtop ye an' break yer heart whin ye wint off wid yer own Tom? What wuz he but an honest lad thet loved ye, an' he wid not a pinny in his pocket but the fare that brought ye both to the new counthry." Tom's eyes filled. She could not see the cedars now.
"Shtop a bit, and go aisy," retorted O'Gorman; "it's yoursilf that doesn't know what you're talkin' about. I said we're goin' round the Horn, didn't I? Very well; I repait it, we're goin' round the Horn in this brig and I'd like to know where's the man that'll purvent us." "Ah!
"You'll have to have a bigger crowd on Broadway before you'll get our fellows out," Merwyn replied. "We're not going to face the cops until there's enough on hand to give us a livin' chance." "There'll be plenty on hand more'n ye ever seed in yer loife before ye're an hour older. So lead on, and shtop your palaver. I'm not quite sure on ye yet."
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