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Updated: June 15, 2025
'You got him hidden away somewheres, Sam, said Mr MacGinnis. 'You can't fool me. I'm com' t'roo dis joint wit a fine-tooth comb till I find him. 'By all means, I said. 'Don't let me stop you. 'You? You're coming wit me. 'If you wish it. I shall be delighted. 'An' cut out dat dam' sissy way of talking, you rummy, bellowed Buck, with a sudden lapse into ferocity. 'Spiel like a regular guy!
Sure, dere's a whole bunch of dem, and unless youse come on down dey'll bite de hull head off of us lot. Leave those stiffs on de roof. Let Sam wait here with his canister, and den dey can't get down, 'cos Sam'll pump dem full of lead while dey're beatin' it t'roo de trap-door. Sure." Psmith nodded reflectively. "There is certainly something in what the bright boy says," he murmured.
Presently they began to sing improvising: Pull him t'roo! Pull him t'roo huh! Saw him to de heart. Gwine to have Christmas. Yes, man! Gwine to have Christmas. Yes, man! Gwine to have Christmas Long as he can bu'n. Burn long, log! Yes, log! Burn long, log! Yes, log, Heah me, log, burn long! Gib dis nigger Christmas. Yes, Lawd, long Christmas! Gib dis nigger Christmas. O log, burn long!
'I'll wait, says he lightin' out for de door. Wit dat I sees de proposition's too fierce for muh. I can't keep dese big husky guys out if dey's for buttin' in. So when de rest of de bunch comes along, I don't try to give dem de t'run down. I says, 'Well, gents, I says, 'it's up to youse. De editor ain't in, but if youse wants to join de giddy t'rong, push t'roo inter de inner room.
Dat war de fus' race dat Challenger lost dat season, but I didn' put him t'roo' his best paces, for I t'ought likely dar might be need ob tall runnin' dat night, an' I didn' want him to play out den. De colonel war mightily outed, fur de stakes was heavy, an' I was sorry 'nuff to see him lose.
De driber he'd done bought up a heap ob likely young gals all de way down t'roo' Missouri an' de udder towns what neighbored on to de ribber han'somest young women he could find, what'd bring a high price in New Orleans an' when he gits dar, what's he do but go roun' to all de slabe-pens an' buy up a heap ob worn-out, or'nary old niggers, what had been worked to def in de rice-swamps, an' nobody wouldn't gib five dollars for.
He jerked a thumb towards the classroom. 'I've locked dem in. What's doin', Buck? he asked, indicating me with a languid nod. 'We're going t'roo de joint, explained Mr MacGinnis. 'De kid ain't in dere. Hump yourself, Sam! His colleague's languor disappeared with magic swiftness. 'Sam! Is dat Sam? Here, let me beat de block off'n him!
"De stupendous and unprecedented gall some folks has is suttenly beyond comparination!" exploded Wash. "Dere is folks dat ain't nebber been to Bawston, eben, dat dares say dat we didn't go ter Alaska in a flyin' masheen, an' den fly away wid a piece ob dat kentry inter de cimcum-ambient air droppin' back on de same w'en we'd got t'roo wid it, an' landin' right outside de harbor of San Francisco.
De editor ain't in, but, if you feels lonesome, push t'roo. Dere's plenty dere to keep youse company. I can't be boddered!" "And what more could you have said?" agreed Smith approvingly. "Tell me, did these gentlemen appear to be gay and light-hearted, or did they seem to be looking for someone with a hatchet?" "Dey was hoppin' mad, de whole bunch of dem." "Dreadfully," attested Betty.
"This," said John, deeply interested, "is getting exciting. Don't give in, Pugsy. I guess the trouble is that your too perfect Italian accent is making the kid homesick." Master Maloney made a gesture of disgust. "I'm t'roo. Dese Dagoes makes me tired. Dey don't know enough to go upstairs to take de elevated.
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