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Updated: May 15, 2025
Instantly Mr. Sieppe boxed his ears. There was a lamentable scene. August rent the air with his outcries; his father shook him till his boots danced on the jetty, shouting into his face: "Ach, idiot! Ach, imbecile! Ach, miserable! I tol' you he eggsplode. Stop your cry. Stop! It is an order. Do you wish I drow you in der water, eh? Speak. Silence, bube! Mommer, where ist mein stick?
"Yes, mamma wrote me; you're going on a ranch." "I'm going in ranching with an English duck," corrected Marcus. "Mr. Sieppe has fixed things. We'll see if we can't raise some cattle. I know a lot about horses, and he's ranched some before this English duck. And then I'm going to keep my eye open for a political chance down there. I got some introductions from the President of the Improvement Club.
Maria Macapa, coming into his "Parlor" to ask for junk, found him flung at length upon the bed-lounge, gnawing at his fingers in an excess of silent fury. At lunch that day Marcus had told him of an excursion that was planned for the next Sunday afternoon. Mr. Sieppe, Trina's father, belonged to a rifle club that was to hold a meet at Schuetzen Park across the bay.
Sieppe, pushing back, "I haf eatun und eatun, ach, Gott, how I haf eatun!" "Ah, dot kaf's het," murmured her husband, passing his tongue over his lips. The facetious waiter had disappeared. He and Maria Macapa foregathered in the kitchen.
Sieppe leaned forward and, speaking to the agent, said: "Vell, you know also my daughter Trina get married bretty soon. She and der dentist, Doktor McTeague, eh, yes?" There was a general exclamation. "I thought so all along," cried Miss Baker, excitedly. "The first time I saw them together I said, 'What a pair!"
There was but little conversation, and that only of the food; one exchanged opinions with one's neighbor as to the soup, the egg-plant, or the stewed prunes. Soon the room became very warm, a faint moisture appeared upon the windows, the air was heavy with the smell of cooked food. At every moment Trina or Mrs. Sieppe urged some one of the company to have his or her plate refilled.
"Look at that horse move his head," he cried excitedly, quite carried away. "Look at that cable car coming and the man going across the street. See, here comes a truck. Well, I never in all my life! What would Marcus say to this?" "It's all a drick!" exclaimed Mrs. Sieppe, with sudden conviction. "I ain't no fool; dot's nothun but a drick." "Well, of course, mamma," exclaimed Trina, "it's "
"Talk about luck," muttered Marcus, shaking his head at the dentist; then suddenly he added: "Well, are we going to stay talking out here in the hall all night? Can't we all come into your 'Parlors', Mac?" "Sure, sure," exclaimed McTeague, hastily unlocking his door. "Efery botty gome," cried Mrs. Sieppe, genially. "Ain't ut so, Doktor?" "Everybody," repeated the dentist.
Sieppe had gone McTeague stood motionless in the middle of the room, his elbows pressed close to his sides, looking obliquely from the corners of his eyes. He hardly dared to move. He was in Trina's room. It was an ordinary little room. A clean white matting was on the floor; gray paper, spotted with pink and green flowers, covered the walls.
McTeague was presented. They all began to talk at once, filling the little station-house with a confusion of tongues. "Attention!" cried Mr. Sieppe, his gold-headed cane in one hand, his Springfield in the other. "Attention! We depart." The four little boys moved off ahead; the greyhound suddenly began to bark, and tug at his leash. The others picked up their bundles. "Vorwarts!" shouted Mr.
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