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And Nana, sheltering behind her carefully bolted door, began laughing at them, declaring that she could hear them pant. They ought to be looking lovely in there with their tongues hanging out like a lot of bowwows sitting round on their behinds. Yesterday's success was not yet over, and this pack of men had followed up her scent. "Provided they don't break anything," she murmured.
The thorough Pessimist believes the world is going in hot haste to the demnition bowwows, and that nothing short of a miracle can head it off; the full-fledged Optimist carries concealed about his person an abiding faith that "God ordereth all things well" that he not only designed the mighty universe, but is giving his personal attention to the details of its management.
"I don't know how I am," retorted Gatewood irritably; "how the devil should a man know how he is?" "Everything going to the bowwows, as usual, dear friend?" "As usual. Oh, read your paper, Tommy! You know well enough I'm not one of those tail-wagging imbeciles who wakes up in the morning singing like a half-witted lark.
"Too bad about Bud consorting with that rustler. I've had to fire him for it." "Fire him? Well you ARE a good friend. Talk about men's loyalty! If women threw men down that easy you all would go to the bowwows too fast for us to bake dog-biscuit.
Besides, I've a dozen partners interested in this cotton, and I owe it to them to get it off to a market. If I don't, most of them will go to the bowwows, financially. The military authorities have no right to forbid shipment and ruin men in this way, but they have the power and they are exercising it.
"I saw Jason, torn between two conflicting emotions, shaking his head over the black circles under my eyes last night he didn't know whether to worry over the first signs of a galloping decline, or break his heart at witnessing the young master he had dandled on his knees going to the damnation bowwows and turning into a confirmed roue! I guess I'll have to mind myself, though.
"Take my word for it, Uncle, we're not going to the demnition bowwows count on England's bulldog grit. God help Germany when the Allies get into that country!" "When ah, when?" echoed Sir Percival. "I hope that I live to see the day. Tell me, boy," his voice softening, "how is it with you and Molly?" His nephew reddened under his tan. "Molly doesn't care for a chap like me," he muttered.
The time Jack meant to remain there resting, had almost expired when both of the boys suddenly sat up, and held their heads in a listening attitude. "I've heard foxes bark before, Jack," said Steve, with a trace of excitement in his manner, "but never like that. I reckon now those bowwows were plain dog!"
"But I'm not going to the bowwows. I'm all right. I'm a decent citizen.
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