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Updated: May 28, 2025
"Ax-gibberish!" yelled the guard, or words to that effect, as he slammed open the door of our compartment, and the train slowed down and at length stopped in front of a dinky little two-by-four station, with a cluster of worm-eaten old houses and a couple of sloppy-looking store buildings near it that looked as if they had all been erected prior to the Norman Conquest, or even possibly antedated the Christian era.
"I don't want better, Jimmie. I want you. I want to take hold of your life and finish the job of making it the kind we can both be proud of. Us two, Jimmie, in in our own decent two-by-four. Shopping on Saturday nights. Frying in our own frying-pan in our own kitchen. Listening to our own phonograph in our own parlor. Geraniums and and kids and and things. Gas-logs. Stationary washtubs. Jimmie!
In the two-by-four shack where we'd lived and worked and been happy before Casa Grande was built there was no chance for one's husband to shut himself up in his private boudoir and barricade himself away from his better-half. So I decided, all of a sudden, to beard the lion in his den. There was such a thing as too much formality in a family circle.
"Couldn't you talk to her, Mr. Ellins?" says he. "Great Scott, no!" says the boss. "Tell her she's raised, and let it go at that." For awhile, though, Mildred cost the firm a lot more money than her salary, if you reckon up as worth anything the time a lot of two-by-four ink-slingers spent makin' goo-goo eyes at her. It was a losin' game all around.
Comes from some absurd little hole out West, and has but one idea in his head, to boom that place. Tried to pin a beastly button on me. Ah! I see you have one." "Sure!" says I. "'Go to Gopher! Catchy, ain't it?" "Bah!" says he. "What do I care for his little two-by-four village? What does anyone care, save the poor wretches who must live there?
Jane who had even yet no adequate sense of the strength and pungency of her younger sister's spirit, but who would not in any event have hesitated to rush on an individual martyrdom that might secure some consideration for the collective family threw herself into the discussion at once. "No, don't let's have any party or dance or reception or anything at all. Not even a two-by-four tea.
Maybe I'll run across some people who don't take a two-by-four view of life if I stay around here long enough, but it hasn't happened to me yet. I hope I'm not an intellectual snob, little person, any more than I'm puffed up over happening to be a little bigger and stronger than the average man, but I must say that the habitual conversation of these people gives me a pain.
"Good heavens, what do you ?" "Do you want to go back to Brooklyn Gilsonses?" "No, but " "Dear, can't we be crazy once, while we're youngsters?" "Don't bombard me so! Let me think. One must be practical, even in craziness." "I am. I have over a thousand dollars from the garage, and I can work evenings as dear Jeff suggested! We'd have a two-by-four flat Claire " "Oh, let me think.
Maybe he had the brains to be a great investigator of the past, in the Belt or on Mars, if his mind didn't crack first, which seemed sure to happen if he left Earth at all. But it was Glen Tiflin's reactions that were the strangest. He had his switch blade out, and was tossing it expertly against a wall two-by-four, in which it stuck quivering each time.
Jack looked about him for a weapon of some kind and noted a long piece of two-by-four that apparently had been used to prop open the door of the wireless station. Stooping over he drew the club toward him and then turned to face the door and the danger that lay beyond it. Fearlessly but with the lithe movement of the crafty panther Jack stepped across the threshold.
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