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Updated: July 14, 2025
"Hain't you goin' to squirt?" asked some one posted safely behind a distant tree. "If you'd been payin' 'tention as you ought to be you'd have jest seen us squirtin'," replied the foreman of the Ancients with quiet satire. "And when we squirt, we squirt to win." Cap'n Aaron Sproul turned away from a rapt and lengthy survey of Colonel Ward in the tree.
The only thing that bothered him wuz the fear that mebbe he wouldn't live to see the last volyume, to tell the truth, this kind uv got to be his hobby, and I've heern him talk 'bout it many a time settin' round the stove at the tarvern 'nd squirtin' tobacco juice at the sawdust box.
'twuddent surprise me if whin they got through batin' us at home, they might say to thimsilves: 'Well, here goes f'r a jaunt ar-roun' the wurruld. Th' time may come, Hinnissey, whin ye'll be squirtin' wather over Hop Lee's shirt while a man named Chow Fung kicks down ye'er sign an' heaves rocks through ye'er windy. The time may come, Hinnissy. Who knows?" "End ye'er blather," said Mr. Hennessy.
Does he have illusions that when they come squirtin' lead at me I'm goin' to peg at 'em with snowballs? "Then he laid back, fightin' for breath, and kickin' out with his legs till I loosened his collar. It was a terrible strain, bein' watchman of a mill under them conditions, with a disposition like this. I pitched in to make him feel better.
"Am anyt'ing de mattah?" she asked. "I done heah yo' all talkin' in heah, an' I t'inks maybe dat honey lamb Freddie done got his steam enjine squirtin' watah ag'in." "Not this time, Dinah," said Mrs. Bobbsey, for the cook was almost like one of the family. Then the twins' mother explained what the trouble was. "I 'clar t' goodness!" Dinah exclaimed.
"Am it all done, honey lamb?" she asked, looking at Freddie. "Yes, Dinah! It's all done squirtin'," he said. "I guess there isn't any more water, anyhow." "No," said Mr. Bobbsey, with a smile, as he looked in the tank of the engine, "it's all pumped out." Freddie's toy fire engine was a large and expensive one his uncle had given him on Christmas.
I told 'em I was a stranger, and hurried away. They were from my country, and ondoubtedly represented a thrifty Ile well somewhere in Pennsylvany. It's a common thing, by the way, for a old farmer in Pennsylvany to wake up some mornin' and find ile squirtin all around his back yard. He sells out for 'normous price, and his children put on gorgeous harness and start on a tower to astonish people.
Lord, yes! Just my luck to lose him. Only brother I ever had. But he's missin' a lot of trouble, at that. Having to eat with your coat on, for one thing. And this grapefruit for breakfast nonsense. I'm always squirtin' myself in the eye." "Isn't that just like Henry?" chuckles Ma Gummidge. "Why, he grumbles because the oil people send him checks so often and he has to mail 'em to his bank.
I shuah did t'ink a watah pipe had done gone an' busted. I shuah did!" "It it just kept on squirtin'!" said Freddie. "I couldn't stop it like it always used to stop." "No, the pump is out of order," said Mr. Bobbsey, as he looked at the now empty fire engine. "It wouldn't stop pumping. Well, I'm glad it wasn't a real fire, and glad that no one is hurt.
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