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"If Tim Thurston happens to be very busy he might use plain talk and tell you to git out of camp." "Then do you mind telling us just how we should approach the chief engineer?" "Whatter yer names?" "Reade and Hazelton." "Bob, trot over and tell Thurston there's two fellows here, named Reade and Hazelnut. Ask him what he wants done with 'em."
When Merry appeared in his stateroom he was greeted with a storm of questions. "Well, what does this mean?" "Trying to dodge us?" "Running away?" "Muts the whatter with you I mean what's the matter?" "Where have you been?" "Stand and give an account of yourself!" Then he told them a little story that astounded them beyond measure.
She was off, borne from him on the rising tide of hysteria. "It's true! It's true!" she cried. "Else you wouldn't use me like you do." "But look here. Whatter you goin' on about? Just because I don't want you to have anything to do with Mercier." She raised her flaming face at that. "It's a lie! It's a beastly lie! I never had anything to do with Mercier."
They slipped away from the table, and followed their elder brother out to the back yard. "Whatter ye goin' to do, Tim?" asked the black-haired twin, divided between dread of what the pastoral visitation might bring forth and a natural curiosity to sound its unknown depths. "Mammy says we can wear our Sunday dresses," said the fair-haired one weakly.
'No longer'n day 'fo' yistiddy, sezee, 'Brer Fox pass me on de road, en whatter you reckin he say? sezee: "'Law, Brer Tarrypin, sez Miss Meadows, sez she, 'you don't mean ter say he cusst? sez she, en den de gals hilt der fans up 'fo' der faces. "'Oh, no, ma'am, sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee, 'he didn't cusst, but he holler out "Heyo, Stinkin' Jim!" sezee. "'Oh, my!
"The whatter, Dave?" came the voice of Jim Bentley, in startled tones, from the gloom on the far end of the veranda. "The quintessence," said Dave, taking his pipe out of his mouth. "You shut up, Jim. As I said, Bill Barker was the quintessence of a drover. He'd been at the game ever since he was a nipper. He run away from home when he was fourteen and went up into Queensland.
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction where Andrew Johnstone's house appeared far up the slope. "Well, I guess I'll have to choke off a few. Gedap thar, whatter ye doin'!" He gave old Bella a lash with the whip which she noticed merely by a switch of her tail. His shoulders sank to their accustomed limpness and he took no notice of Duncan's thanks as he drove off.
"I ain't er-beatin' round 'bout nuffin, jedge," replied Williams, indignantly. "No, seh; I say whatter got to say right out. 'Deed I do." "Well, say it, then." "Jedge," began the negro, taking off his hat and switching his knee with it, "Lode knows I'd do jes 'bout as much fer five dollehs er week as ainy cul'd man, but but this yere business is awful, jedge.
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