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"We punchers like good stuff an' we pays good prices with good money. What do we get? Why, cabbage leaves an' leather for our smokin' an' alcohol an' extract for our drink. Now, up in Kansas City we goes to a sumptious layout, pays less an' gets bang-up stuff. If yu smelled one of them K. C. cigars yu'd shore have to ask what it was, an' as for the liquor, why, yu'd think St.
"What!" says she, squealin' it out like I'd said the house was afire. "Not the brother of that that Morgan girl?" "Ask him," says I. "You're a star at that." Then I takes a peek at Bill. And say, I was almost sorry I'd done it. For a party that'd just broke jail, he could stand the least I ever saw. He looks as mixed up and helpless as a lady that's took a seat in the smokin' car by mistake.
Then they did one o' them 'Wow-wow-wow' dances round Rumpty-Tumpty, who was still smokin' like he'd set fire to the cabin." Cowpunchers are a paradox. They have the wisdom of the ages, yet they are only grown-up children. Now they filled the night with mirth. Hawks lay down on his bunk and kicked his feet into the air joyfully. Reeves fell upon Dud and beat him with profane gayety.
"And Cousin?" "Say, Morris, that feller acts like he was reg'lar happy. Laughs a lot, only it don't sound nat'ral. He's a hellion at scoutin'. Poor Baby Kirst! I must 'low it's best for him to be wiped out, but it's too bad he couldn't 'a' made his last fight along with us. There's th' colonel in his shirt-sleeves smokin' his pipe." I passed on to where Lewis was sitting on a log.
"And wha daur say it's true?" rejoined Marion almost fiercely. "Nane but himsel; and gien it be sae, and he disna confess, the rod laid upon him 'ill be the rod o' iron, 'at smashes a man like a muckle crock. "Noo jist tak ye care, Peter, 'at ye dinna quench the smokin flax." "But I s' say naething till he's a wee better, for we maunna drive him to despair! Eh gien he would only repent!
'Such a fine room, replied Sponge, looking around. 'Oh, fine be hanged! replied Jack, adding, as he made for the jacket, 'no place too fine for smokin' in.
"Well, mebbe that and mebbe it means that she knows we don't want to fight considerable more than a million dollars' worth." "How much do you think she'll hold out for?" "Can't tell; you don't know how big pills she's been smokin'." "But, damn it all, that's robbery!" "Yes but it's her deal.
"Why, I smoked before I was three foot high, I was goin' to say. I couldn't get along without smokin'." "Nor I without reading." "Well, folks will have their different tastes, I allow. I reckon I'll be goin' back." "Shan't you bury him?" asked Herbert, with a glance at the dead Indian. "No; he wouldn't have buried me." "But you won't leave him here? If you'll bury him, I'll help you."
We ain't the sort o' characters to presoom on our rep'tations they're bad. If they have the Band at the Depot we don't go, and no error there. If they take the Band we may get cast for medical unfitness. Are you medical fit, Piggy?" said Jakin, digging Lew in the ribs with force. "Yus," said Lew with an oath. "The Doctor says your 'eart's weak through smokin' on an empty stummick.
Why look at 'em," she went on in the next breath to Rance; "there's Handsome with two wives I know of somewhere East. And " She broke off short and ended with: "Nick, who's that cigar for?" "Tommy," he told her. "Here, give that back!" she cried quickly putting out her hand for it. "Tommy don't know a good cigar when he's smokin' it."
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