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Updated: August 21, 2024
'We no finda water, said the leader; 'we looka two, tree day no finda, and too many nigger on shore shoota us all the time witha-bow-anda-arra. 'Well, you've got some guns there, I see. Couldn't you keep the niggers off while a couple of you filled the breaker? I asked. 'And there's plenty of water on Pentecost, I believe. He shrugged his shoulders. 'Of what-a good the gun?
And you not wanting to come when I called for you this morning you trying to dodge me and the swellest Indian-summer Sunday on the calendar!" "Looka!" "Wait! We 'ain't started yet, if you think this is swell." "Oh! Let's go over in them woods. Let's." Her lips were apart and pink crept into her cheeks, effacing the dark rims of pain beneath her eyes. "Let's hurry."
Me and the marine had to grab their shovels and finish the job or there wouldn't 'a' been no funeral that day. "When we get back the six doughboys is all ready to give first aid to the coffin, and Rathbone is talkin' to Napoleon One like they was brothers. So I go up to them and I sez to Rathbone: "'Looka here, Rathbone. I'm the priest at this party. See? "'What's that? sez Rathbone.
Night sweats and losing weight and coughing, and oh " "Look! Little kids and all! Thin as matches." "Aw, see, a poor little shaver like that! Look! It says sleeping in that dirty room without a window gave it to him. Ugh, that old man! 'Self-indulgence and intemperance. Looka that girl in the tobacco factory. Oh! Oh! Ain't it awful!
She caught him by the wrist. "Tell me what's happened!" "The other feller he's lost." "Lost?" said Deolda, her breath drawn in sharply. "Lost how?" "Washed overboard," said Joe. "See looka here. When Johnny got ashore this is what he says."
And you not wanting to come when I called for you this morning you trying to dodge me and the swellest Indian summer Sunday on the calendar!" "Looka!" "Wait! We ain't started yet, if you think this is swell." "Oh! Let's go over in them woods. Let's." Her lips were apart and pink crept into her cheeks, effacing the dark rims of pain beneath her eyes. "Let's hurry."
Hoyt smiled, nervously, and said she must run away and tend to her dinner. And went. Ray looked after her. He strode into the kitchenette where Cora stood, hatted, at the sink. "Say, looka here, Cora. You got to quit seeing that woman, see?" "What woman?" "One calls herself Mrs. Hoyt. That woman. Mrs. Hoyt! Ha!" "Why, Ray, what in the world are you talking about! Aren't you fun-ny!"
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