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When it comes to personal feelin's better let yer friends do the talkin' and jedgin'. A man can't handle his own case any more than a delirious doctor kin give hisself the right physic Sayings of Si Sylvanne. The coming of springtime in the woods is one of the gentlest, sweetest advents in the world.
"He believes you dreamed of them," I said, "and he is quite sure you ought to live in them." "He thinks the world o' me," said Mrs. Panel, in a softer tone, "but this world an' the next won't turn him from what he's set his mind to do. I'd oughter be ashamed o' speakin' so of him, but it's so. Mercy! I hev been talkin'."
"Oh, I just thought I'd tell you," Mrs. Stout observed, "that they got precious little out o' me. I ain't the talkin' kind. I told 'em nothink whatever, you may be sure." "They're perfectly welcome to learn all that can be learned about me," Hazel returned quietly. "I don't like newspaper notoriety, but I can't muzzle the papers, and it's easy for them to get my whole history if they want it."
"What would little Skeezucks like old brother Jim to make for breakfast?" The quaint bit of a man drew a trifle closer to the rough old coat and timidly answered: "Bwead an' milk." The two men started mildly. "By jinks!" said the awe-smitten Keno. "By jinks! talkin'!" "I told you so," said Jim, suppressing his excitement. "Bread and milk?" he repeated. "Just bread and milk. You poor little shaver!
"Now that's what I call a sensible garment," sez Jabez, heartily, an' then he begun talkin' to me. Jabez had a lot o' wisdom when he kept his head, an' by the time supper was over Barbie was purty well used to the feel, an' we all three went for a ride; me ridin' Starlight, Barbie, Hawkins, an' Jabez a strappin' bay, one of Pluto's colts, an' a beauty.
I'd ruther break in the stoonidest lot o' hayseeds that ever breathed, rather than boys that think they know more'n I do. Now I'm goin' to have the time o' my life learnin' 'em the right face." He began the explanation of that complicated manuver: "Now, I want every one o' you to stop talkin', gether up them scatter-fire brains o' your'n, and pay strict 'tention to every word I say "
"Look here, Ben, no two men can bind ten acres in a day, so just quit yer blowin' an' talk sense." "I'm talkin' 'bout binders," repeated Ben stubbornly. "And I tell you, Ben," replied the "Old King," with emphasis, "your boys and they're good boys, too can't tie no ten acres in a day. They've got the chance of tryin' on that ten acres of wheat on my west fifty.
'An' there'd be no reward for that man he but went about talkin', said the Kerry man artlessly. 'You speak by your breed, said Dan with a laugh. 'There was never a Kerry man yet that wudn't sell his brother for a pipe o' tobacco an' a pat on the back from a p'liceman. 'Praise God I'm not a bloomin' Orangeman, was the answer. 'No, nor never will be, said Dan. 'They breed MEN in Ulster.
"The second day of the big blizzard?" cried Nan. "That's the very day," agreed Bess. "It's when Sallie and Celia would have got here if they were coming to Chicago." "Hi!" exclaimed the flower girl. "What's you talkin' about? Who's Sallie and Celia?" "Girls whom we think came to the city the other day just as you said," Nan explained. "They have run away to be moving picture actresses."
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