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Updated: May 20, 2025
Before Jack could repeat his question the shanty door opened and the negro appeared. Exclaiming angrily, he ran toward them. "W'at he want? W'at he want now?" he demanded. "He say, whata da time," repeated one of the Italians. "W'at de time? He am a spy! A spy!" cried the negro. "In de house with him!" Jack sprang back, and turned to run.
I thought there wouldn't be nothin' to do but grub pile three times a day and the old man's cheroots in between. And here I be now, ridin' along with a bunch of pirates! Whata you know about that? And some of them nice boys, too. If they were riff-raff, barroom bums, I could get a line on it. But I'll have to pass the buck." "You haven't got an extra gun anywhere, have you?"
Immediately Dodge began to talk: "So you nearly throttled that ornery coyote, huh? Whata you know about this round-up? The three o' 'em came in, and I never smelt nothin' until they were on top o' me. How should I smell anythin'? Hobnobbing together for days, how was I to know they were a bunch of pirates? Is your old man sore?" "Naturally." "I mean appertainin' to me?"
Secretly trembling, but with a cool front, Jack approached them as they stood, excitedly whispering. "Would you kindly tell me the time?" he asked. The three men exchanged glances, then, as at a signal, stepped forward and surrounded him. "Now, whata you want?" demanded one of them sharply, thrusting his dark face close to Jack's.
A second later the other monkey leaped back on the bear's head and began to dance and scratch wildly, in the meanwhile scattering the bun crumbs in all directions. "Hi! hi! whata you do to de monks?" demanded the Italian. "You letta de monks alone!" "I'm not touching, the monks," replied Torn, and slipped out of sight in the crowd.
Report of this was carried to Niwa Reka, and her heart was touched. She forgave her husband, and nursed him through the fever caused by the tattooing. Happier than Orpheus and Eurydice, the pair returned to earth and taught men to copy the patterns punctured on Mata-ora's face. But, alas! in their joy they forgot to pay to Ku Whata Whata, the mysterious janitor of Hades, Niwa Reka's cloak as fee.
"Soprano sentimental," she answered, trying to be offhand and at ease. "Whata you doin' it for?" he demanded directly. "For fun; what else?" she countered. "I just sized you up for that as soon as I put eyes on you. You ain't graftin' for a paper, are you?" "I never met but one editor in my life," she replied evasively, "and I, he well, we didn't get on very well together."
"Well, whata dat?" said the man. "I kin remember when she weared worsted boots," she cried. The neighbors began to gather in the hall, staring in at the weeping woman as if watching the contortions of a dying dog. A dozen women entered and lamented with her. Under their busy hands the rooms took on that appalling appearance of neatness and order with which death is greeted.
"O ho!" he exclaimed. "So it you, da station-man boy, eh? An' you da one whata help Hennessy get away, eh? "An' whata now you do wid dis?" he demanded fiercely, indicating the lantern. "If you can't guess, I'm not going to tell you," declared Alex stoutly, though his heart was in his throat. "O ho! You wonta, eh?
"Well?" he asked, looking at his balloons to make sure none of them would break away, and float up to the clouds. "Can you sell pink lemonade?" asked Bunny. "Penk leemonade," repeated the Italian, saying the words in a funny way. "Whata you calla dat? Penk leemonade?" "You know what they always have at a circus," said Bunny. "This color," and he pointed to a pink balloon.
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