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As Barber caught sight of her, he thrust his big frame into the doorway, blocking it. "There she is!" he declared hotly. "The tattler! The busybody! Hidin' books for a lazy kid! Helpin' him t' waste his time! She can't come in here!" "Stand out o' me way!" cried the Father. "I'm comin' in, and this lady with me!" "Don't y' try t' tell me what y're goin' t' do!" replied Big Tom.
A big burly Swede came forward from the miner's tent. "Are you one of the new settlers?" asked Wayland. "Yaw! A gott pig varm! Tra vor years mak' pig money liffin' y'ere! Mae voman, Ae send her vork citie; Ae build mae house y're!" "All these children yours?" "Yaw!" The man smiled bigly, incredulous that any one could doubt. "Have you filed for a homestead for each of them?" "Yaw!"
"Y're braver than my wife; an' she's the bravest o' them a'! D' y' know that my wife came half way round the world t' marry me an' go penniless to th' Indian Reserve? D' y' know when she found the Indians sick, d' y' know she went East an' took a full four years' medical course t' be able to attend them?
His groping brain grasped at the idea, and it gave him strength better the "snakes" than that! But he must do something, the man was coming toward him only hip-deep now "Go 'way! Go 'way!" he shrieked in a sudden frenzy of action. "Damn you! Y're dead! D'ye hear me! Go 'way from here!"
"Oblige?" repeated the longshoreman, delighted. "Dear Mister Perkins, y're one person that I'm jus' achin' t' spank!" Then once more showing his pipe-stained teeth in a grin, "Oh, but I hate awful t' muss y' up! I hate t' spoil y', Perksie! Y' look so nice and neat and sweet! Almost like a stick o' candy! And, nobody'll want t' look at y' after I git done with y'!" Mr.
He closed his eyes again, and began to writhe and mutter strange words. Suddenly he cried plainly, "Curse the swine! Another wedge, ye damned chicken-heart!" He looked at me again, and this time made out who I was, and cursed loathsomely in his disappointment. "D'ye know where y're going?" he ended, leering wickedly. "No," said I. "Blast ye! I wish ye did!"
I set my lantern on the ground close to the wall, and at the same moment a horse and cart drew up on the road at the end of the lane, showing against the starlight. It was Pere Baudry's best horse, a stout gray, that would easily enough make Trouville by daylight. "Who is it, I say?" shouted our excited friend. "What kind of a game d'ye think y're puttin' up on me here?"
Swinging the broom which she had brought with her, she almost literally swept them forth, flinging their belongings out into the snow. Not even Rosenblatt, who lingered about, did she suffer to remain. "Y're wife will not be nadin' ye, I'm thinkin', for a while. Ye can just wait till I can bring ye wurrd av y're babby," she said, pushing him, not unkindly, from the room.
Soon, however, there was an especially large crowd by Nana's landau. She had risen to her feet and had set herself to pour out glasses of champagne for the men who came to pay her their respects. Francois, one of the footmen, was passing up the bottles while La Faloise, trying hard to imitate a coster's accents, kept pattering away: "'Ere y're, given away, given away! There's some for everybody!"
"But up t' now, it wasn't no story t' be tellin' a little kid leastways, not a kid that's got a loony way o' seein' things, and worryin' over 'em. And I warn y'! Y're likely as not t' make him sick!" The priest chuckled. "Y' ought t' know about that," he agreed. "Seein' that ye've made him sick yerself, often enough." "Har! har! har!" he ejaculated hoarsely.
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