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Updated: May 2, 2025
"As soon as I can get going I am leaving for the Western Lumber camp. Every one of you boys holds his job here because I gave it to him. Do you want to hold it now, with a fool girl telling you what to do? Do you want men up and down the State to laugh at you and jeer at you for a pack of softies and imbeciles? Or do you want to roll your blankets and quit?
After all, the Platform was a construction job and the men who worked on it were not softies. Most of them had seen men killed before. Before the shift was half over, a definite work rhythm was evident. Men had begun to take an even greater pride in the thing they had built, because it had been assailed and not destroyed. And the job was almost over.
"But you know, too, that snubbing isn't a way to get hold of anybody." "It's the only way with conceited softies," began Just. But Charlotte caught his hand and squeezed it. "No, it isn't. I'm sure she's worth being friends with, and if she can learn certain things you can teach her in the way of athletics, and reading, and all that, you can do her lots of good."
"The Trick Mule and the Red Cart are all very well for little Fraidy-Cats and Softies, but a brave Youth of High Spirit should tread the Deck of his own Ship with a Cutlass under his Red Sash. Aye, that is Blood gauming up the Scuppers, but is the Captain chicken-hearted? Up with the Black Flag! Let it be give and take, with Pieces of Eight for the Victor!"
Sargeant preferred to limit it to just the Beavers. He said we were seasoned scouts by this time, while the other fellows might be called tenderfeet; and it would be a pity to run chances of losing the prize, just because one of them softies fell down." Fritz offered this explanation, and somehow at mention of Steve Slimmons' name a slight smile could be seen flitting across more than one face.
You pushed me in and then you got cold feet. For fear that I'd drown and you'd be hung you jumped in to do your usual grandstand act of hero! Didn't I hear these softies calling you that right now? No, I don't want to touch your hand. Keep your friendship for those who can appreciate it. There's a long account between us that's going to be settled some fine day."
The parson of a potty parish of a couple of hundred people, counting the babies and the softies, and half of them Dissenters or Salvation Army. Moreover, they can't be bullied, because if they were they'd just walk into the next chapel door.
"I think," he said, "we are a couple of softies." "No, no," she insisted. "I want to cry and want you to cry, too. Oh, dear, I haven't a handkerchief." "Here, take mine." They wiped each other's eyes like two children and for a long time sat in the deserted little Japanese pleasure house, their arms about each other, talking, talking, talking.
"Is everyone here?" demanded Nora, scanning the crowd of freshmen with a view to ascertaining what her chum's chances were. "All that intend coming," replied Miriam. "The softies stayed away, as usual." "Suppose we wait five minutes," said Grace, looking at her watch, "and then, if no one comes, we will cast the votes." "No, no," exclaimed Miriam impatiently.
All our certitudes were going; we were on doubtful terms with our officers; the cook had given us up for lost; we had overheard the boatswain's opinion that "we were a crowd of softies." We suspected Jimmy, one another, and even our very selves. We did not know what to do.
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