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Updated: June 7, 2025
"What are ye swingin' the yards fer, enyhow?" asked the sailor insolently. "Just fer exercise?" The other, who already had started to turn away, stopped, and took a step backward toward his questioner. "Because I am a sailor, Haines," he replied angrily. "Anyhow it is none of your business; I was left in command here. Those clouds don't look good to me; there is going to be a blow before morning."
Say, the idea that either of 'em might get out of this muss without goin' to the station house hadn't occurred to me before. But here was a taxi, jam up against the curb not a dozen feet off, with the chauffeur swingin' his cap enthusiastic. "Quick, Uncle!" says I, gettin' him by the arm. "It's your one chance. You too, Robin. But show some speed about it."
He's sportin' a spray of lilies of the valley in his lapel, and swingin' his silver topped stick, and by the look on his face you'd think he was hearin' the birdies sing in the treetops. "Tra-la-la, tra-la-lee!" says I, throwin' open the brass gate for him. "Is it a special holiday, or what?" "It's a very special one," says he, thumpin' me on the back and whisperin' husky in my ear.
Hope you gents have come to take him back where he belongs. Needs to be shut up, he does." "But where is he?" demands Mr. Robert. "Out back of the house, swingin' an old boat-hook and carryin' on simple," says Lem. "I'll show you." It was some sight, too.
'Twill be easy enough, once you finds the way o' swingin' your feet." Mrs. Twig and Violet went down to the landing to see them off, and to wish them Godspeed as they pulled away with Skipper Zeb and Toby at the oars and Charley settled snugly in the stern. The stars shone brightly. The distant shore line stood out in dark silhouette marking the boundary of the land of silence, where no man lived.
I'd advise you to p'int for Red Dog, but as to that you plays your hand yourse'f." "Next day that old drunkard Monte comes swingin' in with the stage; the six hosses on the jump, same as he allers does with a woman along. Over at the post-office, where he stops, a lady gets out, an' of course we-alls bows p'lite an' hopes she's well an' frisky. She allows she is, an' heads for the O. K. House.
Laying her bonnet carefully upon the side table, she followed Madam into the kitchen, yet would not permit that lady to explore the barn as she set out to do. "Come along with me, Alfy, but get a lantern. I hear the barn door swingin' an' old Whitey mooin' as if even she was scared. You or Monty must ha' been careless about shuttin' up to-night, which uther one of you done it, or didn't do it."
She wasn't no mo'n a sort o' swingin' ice-pitcher herself, ol' Mis' Meredy wasn't walkin' round the house weekdays dressed in black silk, with a lace cap on her head, an' half insultin' his company thet he'd knowed all his life.
"I don't see how they can think so when they know that I belong to a Confederate privateer." "Them men, whose names I give ye a minute ago, thought that mebbe you'd be willing to turn Hanson loose when you heared how he had been swingin' his tongue about that there money." Kelsey had come to the point at last.
Four days later, as I'm swingin' 'round the range, I finds Falstaff an' Pistol in Long's Canyon; Prince Hal is on the Caliente; while Hotspur an' his air is both wise an' sad- -is tamely where he belongs on the Upper Red. An' now recallin' how I comes to plunge into this yere idyl, I desires to ask you-all, however Prince Hal brings Faistaff to the wars that time, if cattle can't talk?"
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