The rest had begun to scatter before the train was out of sight, and I never again saw one of the five gentry who had introduced us to the whole proceedings. Then my friend the engine-driver found time to be a little curious. "What'n hell?" he asked, in the lingua franca that all Indians are supposed to understand. So I answered him in the mother argot at a venture, and he bit.

"Why, Senator Stevens," went on the lobbyist, "only to-day a Down East member held me up to tell me that he was strong for that proposition to give the A.K. and L. railroad grants of government timber land in Oregon. He says to me, he says: 'What'n h l do my constituents in New England care about things 'way out on the Pacific Coast?

The other was sitting in a corner, with his hat balanced precariously over his left ear, gazing superciliously upon his fellows and, incidentally, winning everything in sight. He leered up at Chip and fingered ostentatiously his three stacks of blues. "What'n thunder do I want to go t' camp for?" he demanded, in answer to Chip's suggestion.

Critchlow deigned no remark. "When did ye leave this Paris?" he demanded of Sophia, leaning back, and putting his hands on the arms of the chair. "Yesterday morning," said Sophia, "And what'n ye been doing with yeself since yesterday morning?" "I spent last night in London," Sophia replied. "Oh, in London, did ye?" "Yes. Cyril and I had an evening together." "Eh? Cyril!

Christie. Lizzie Johnstone. "Oh! but ye're a fearsome lass." Christie. "Wha'll give me a sang for my bonny yarn?" Lord Ipsden, who had been an unobserved auditor of the latter part of the tale, here inquired whether she had brought her book. "What'n buik?" "Your music-book!" "Here's my music-book," said Jean, roughly tapping her head. "And here's mines," said Christie, birdly, touching her bosom.

A girl at his elbow was asking the other: "What'n the world's become of Mary Johnson? She wasn't to the dance last night, and it's the first one " Andy held his breath. "Oh, Mame quit her place with Kelly and Gray, two weeks ago. She's gone to Santa Cruz and got a place for the summer. Her and Lola Parsons went together, and " Andy took advantage of another crossing, and dropped off.

There was a friend of that man Porter got turned away from our shop, because he wouldn't pay some tyrannical fine for being saucy, as they called it, to the shopman; and he went to a sweater's and then to another; and his friends have been tracking him up and down this six months, and can hear no news of him." "Aw! guide us! And what'n, think yow, be gone wi' un?"

Just let him hang round, and throw sheep's-eyes, till he's as soft as a jellyfish, and when he's right down ripe, roaring mad, go off and pretend to do a mash with some one else. That's the way to glue him, chicken." "But you don't have anything of him that way," objected Laura. Maria laughed herself red in the face. "What'n earth more d'you want?

Then a door slammed and Old Bill Belllounds appeared, his hair upstanding, his look and gait proclaiming him on the rampage. "Jack! What'n hell are you doin'?" he roared, and he stamped up to the door to see his son standing there with the rifle in his hands. "By Heaven! If it ain't one thing it's another!" "Boss, don't jump over the traces," said Wade.

"What under the sun do you mean?" asked the good wife; "we haven't any brat, and never had, and his name should not be Isaac if we had. I believe you are crazy." The man balanced his bulk rather unsteadily, looked hard into the eyes of his companion, and triumphantly emitted the following conundrum: "Jane, look-a-here! If we haven't any brat, what'n thunder's the use o' bein' married!"