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Our opinion is, he don't know beef from hedgehog; and let him trim 'em, and egg 'em, and bread-crumb 'em, and pound the mess all his might, and then tak' and roll 'em into balls, we say we wun't, for we can't make English muscle out o' that."
"It is your treat; we'll risk the stuff!" and the party turned in to the bar to realize their expectations. "There is one thing 'bout it," said Bi, "Bart hain't changed much, anyway." "And there's another thing 'bout it," said uncle Bill, "a chap that carries such a sassy tongue should be sassy able. He'll answer some chap, some day, that wun't stan' it."
Deliberately the old man moved his head to and fro, searching the offender. Then the musket went to his shoulder, cheek hugged stock, the face grew set. The mystic had turned man of action. There was a flash in the darkness, a smother of white in the room, and outside a sudden sobbing cry. A hand waved in the cloud, and out of it a still voice said, "He wun't trouble no more."
He got a sunstroke or something yesterday, in the sun, cultivatin' his corn and he don't feel just right in his head, he says." She went out of the door as she spoke, calling over her shoulder, "I wun't be gone long."
Powers said at his elbow, "The first sets are forming, Mr. Marsh." She called across to Frank Warner, standing very straight with Nelly Powers' hand on his arm, "Frank, you call off, wun't ye?" Instantly the young man, evidently waiting for the signal, sent out a long clear shout, "First sets fo-orming!"
They're purtendin' to be stuck on goin', an' I've made the bargain to pacify 'em; but, say, do you know what kind of a place it is out on one o' them ranches?" "In a general way, yes," said I. "W'l, a general way wun't do," said he. "You've got to git right down to p'ticklers t' know about it, so's to know. It's seventy-five miles from a post-office an' twenty-five to the nearest house.
Our opinion is, he don't know beef from hedgehog; and let him trim 'em, and egg 'em, and bread-crumb 'em, and pound the mess all his might, and then tak' and roll 'em into balls, we say we wun't, for we can't make English muscle out o' that."
To think o' thar bein' sech a sweet furtile place lyin' plum centre in the innermost recesses o' the Staked Plain, whar we purairey men allers believed thar wun't nothin' 'ceptin' dry desert an' stinkin' sage-bush.
Had it no eyes? no soul? no understanding? was it not English, heart of oak, its life sucked these centuries from the breast of the same mother? could it not feel his agony? "Piper! Piper! the door's shut!" "Ay, sir, but it wun't be drackly-minute," came a straining voice from within; and the boy could hear the rending of torn boards, and the splintering of terrific hatchet-work.
I mean this: I got a letter from them that day out at Mountain's, but I had no time to read it Christmas and the next day I forgot I had it till after I had put your letter in the post-office. This is what was in it: CITISENS TRACK'S END, We will Rob your bank and burn your town if we don't get the small some we ask for. If adoing it we kill anyboddy it wun't be our fawlt.
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