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Updated: May 18, 2025
"'Ave you seen him? He ain't a hoss at all. He's a he-goat. Only I've shave the top of him to took you all in. He's comin' on at the 'alls to-night after the race. Goin' to sit on a stool and sing The Wop 'em Opossum, specially composed by me and Mar for this occasion only." He lilted on his way. By noon the Paddock was filling, and the Carriage Enclosure becoming packed.
The army of Italy, thus dismantled, thoroughly soaked in the waters of the Wop, without food, without shelter, passed the night on the snow near a village, where its officers expected to have found lodging for themselves. Their soldiers, however, beset its wooden houses.
She knew how to train 'em up, she did; and it was of no manner of use, it wasn't, to talk to her upon that point. She was right. It was of no use. As well might one have talked to the wooden cuckoo, already referred to, in Mrs Potter's timepiece. "Come, Martha," said a tall, broad-shouldered, deep-voiced man at her elbow, "don't wop the poor cheeld like that. What has he been doin' "
He did not look like a docker. He was gaily dressed in a neat blue suit with a bright red tie: "Fellow workers I am Italian man! You call me Guinney, Dago, Wop you call another man Coon, Nigger you call another man a Sheeny! Stop calling names call men fellow workers! We are on strike let us not fight each other let us have peace let us have a good time!
Same old rearm' on end straight up. Same old feelin' that you've bested 'em this time. Same old little yank at your mouth when you're up good an' tall. Same old Pegasus-act, wonderin' where you'll 'light. Same old wop when you hit the dirt with your head where your tail should be, and your in'ards shook up like a bran-mash.
If a man gives his whole mind to it, he learns practical things fast. Even a dumb-head Wop gets his English rapidly when he's where he has to talk that or nothing. Inside of three years I had that ranch paying, and paying big. It was due to my friends whom I had been afraid of, and I'm not ashamed to say so.
He appeared to have a fixed idea that the Italian language was one easily mastered by the simple method of saying "da" instead of "the," and adding a final "a" to any word that seemed to him to need one. "Say, kid," he began, "has da rent-a-man come yet-a?" The black eyes of the wop kid clouded. He gesticulated, and said something in his native language.
"There was one of the books over to the lib'ry," he heard himself meandering on, "with a queer story in it. I got to reading it through, one night last winter. It was about a feller named 'Fed'rigo. A wop of some kind, I guess. He got so hard up he didn't have anything left but a pet falcon. Whatever a falcon may be. Whatever it was, it must'a been good to eat. But he set a heap of store by it.
"She powdered her nose and went down stairs an hour ago," Ruth sang down, just as a small figure emerged from the music room upon the veranda and approached the rail. "The little Wop is here, Signor," said Maria Angelina lightly. Unabashed Johnny Byrd beamed at her. It was a perfectly good sensation, each time, to see her.
Do you see that fellow that wop next to Caesar Maruffi?" Bernie did not lower his eyes from the mirror, "the third from the left." "Sure!" "Well!" triumphantly. "Well?" "That is he." "That's who?" "I don't know." "What the " "He's one of 'em, that's all I know. I've been on him for a week. I've trailed him everywhere. He has an accomplice a woman!" The Chief's face underwent a remarkable change.
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