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Updated: June 8, 2025
Sure he must 'a' worn gums, sor. You couldn't hear the whisper of a footfall." "But whom did he seem to resemble?" "Well, if the captain will forgive me, sor, it's unwillin' I am to say the worrd, but there's no one that tall and light and slim here, sor, but Loot'nant Jerrold. Sure it couldn't be him, sor." "Leary, will you promise me something on your word as a man?" "I will, sor."
"Annything new at the shops, Dutchy?" he inquired. "I was not somet'ings gehearing, nein. You was dot Arkoos newsbaper dis evening schen? He says nodings too, alretty, about dot strike." "Divil a worrd. Ye might think Scotty'd handed the major a bit av blank paper f'r all the notice he's taking. More thin that, he's lavin' town, wid me to pull him.
The parade is dismissed." The next thing I knew I was on Cowan's shoulders, and he was tearing round and round the fort with two companies at his heels. "The divil," said Terence McCann, "he dhrummed us over the wather, an' through the wather; and faix, he would have dhrummed the sculp from Hamilton's head and the Colonel had said the worrd."
The proprietor himself, a bald-headed Irishman, sat with feet cocked up on the counter, smoking, and barely glancing up as the Sergeant asked for Mrs. Dupont. "Who are yer?" he asked. "My name is Hamlin; I am here on the lady's invitation." "Sure; thet 's ther name all right, me bhoy. Yer ter go out on the east porch there, an' wait a bit whoile I sind her worrd yer here.
"Nivir a worrd wud they say, but ye kin bet yer Uncle Sammy's not spyin' around afther people fer nuthin'. They searched the store aftherworrds, but nary a thing cud they find." So that was the explanation of the now vacant store which had been so much a part of the life of Tom Slade and his poor, shiftless family.
There be no 'u' in th' worrd as 'tis simplified by th' order av th' prisidint av th' Interurban." Mr. Warold looked at the package and then at Flannery, and gasped. He was slow to anger, and slow in all ways, and it took him fully two minutes to let Flannery's meaning trickle into his brain. Then he pushed the package across to Flannery again and laughed. "That is all right," he said.
There be no 'o' in th' feenix av th' Interurban Ixpriss Company. P-h-e-n-i-x is th' improved and official spellin' av th' worrd, and th' rules av th' company is agin lettin' any feenixes with an 'o' in thim proceed into th' official business av th' company. And th' same of that 'Sulphur' worrd.
"All richt; that'll be Haslemere," says Private M'Micking, scribbling down the word. "Go on, Sandy!" Private Wamphray, pausing to expectorate, continues "R-e-c-o-n-n-o-i-t-r Cricky, what a worrd! Let's hae it repeatit." Wamphray flaps his flag vigorously, he knows this particular signal only too well, and the word comes through again. The distant signaller, slowing down a little, continues,
Flannery was writing carefully with his tongue clasped firmly between his teeth, but he stopped and looked up. "'T is an odd way t' spell a worrd av that same pronownciation," he said, and then, suddenly, he laid down his pen and turned to the list of three hundred words that was pasted beside his desk.
Then, all reason for well-meaning falsehood being at an end, the Irishwoman looked facts in the face with the resolution that never flinches before the mishaps of one's fellow-man, especially when he is a total stranger. "The power man!" said she. "He'll have sane the last of his little boy alive, only shure one hasn't the harrut to say the worrd.
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