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Updated: May 2, 2025
I'll be there in a moment. That's all. Dan, order my carriage!" "Yentlemen, you vill ugscooce me?" The German withdrew, returning each gentleman's bow with a faint wave of the hat. During this interview the more polished stranger had sat with bowed head, motionless and silent, lifting it only once and for a moment at the German's emotional outburst.
The limp, white shirt-collar just below was without a necktie, and the waist of his pantaloons, which seemed intended to supply this deficiency, did not quite, but only almost reached up to the unoccupied blank. He removed from his respectful head a soft gray hat, whitened here and there with flour. "Yentlemen," he said, slowly, "you vill ugscooce me to interruptet you, yentlemen."
"Sign yourself Jean Fumée de l'Enfer." "Why not the scientific turn?" I asked. "Make it Professor John OxySulphuret, F.R.S. Foreigner Rastling for Selebrity." "My idear's Blue Blazes," put in Saunders bluntly. "Tank you, yentlemen," replied the genial Mynheer. "Mineself, I enyoy der yoke. Bot I am brout of my name.
"Aye ent no fule, yentlemen; Aye know ven Aye ban doing right teng. Master Bost he say 'Keep on running! Aye gass I run till hal freeze on top. Aye ent know why. Master Bost he know, I tenk." "This is awful," said Lambert, the manager of the team. "He's taken Bost literally again the chump. He'll run till he lands up in those pine woods again. And that ball cost the association five dollars.
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