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Updated: August 10, 2024
There was a great deal of joshing and laughter, in which Roy took no part; for he was a fellow who found little amusement in the usual babble and jests of his schoolmates, and nothing aroused his resentment quicker than to be made the butt of a harmless joke.
"Give 'em away with a pound of tea," put in a third joker. "Eh, Josie?" "Let's get away from here," whispered Indiman to me. "The girl looks as though she might faint." We pushed on through the crowd that continued to chaff us good-naturedly "joshing" they called it.
"None of your joshing, now," said Ralph, and then, turning to the child, he continued: "I hope nothing is wrong over at your house, Madge?" "Oh, no, sir. It wasn't that. I heard something about you, and I wanted to tell you right away, 'cause I'm afraid of that bad boy. Once he threw water on me, and laughed when I cried. Then he put a nasty cold frog in my hand, and made me hold it ever so long."
"A cry, Julius, do you say?" exclaimed Horatio, his eyes growing round now with increasing wonder and thrilling interest, "do you really and truly mean that, or are you only joshing?" "Well," the narrator went on to say soberly, "two fellows told me they'd heard that same shriek.
"Oh, sugar, no; you don't need to go," said the old groceryman, as he came up to the boy, wiping the soapsuds off, and trying to smile. "I was only joshing you, and, honestly, I enjoy you. Life is a dreary burden when you are away.
We joined the elderly and phlegmatic gardener, and after joshing him a little about the beauty of the plants he was growing, Holmes began to ask him some leading questions about whether Lord Launcelot hadn't been loafing around the flower-beds on the previous Easter Monday at a time when he naturally would be expected to be up in the billiard room, shooting his head off at his favorite indoor game.
The third act drew on. The low comedian had just finished joshing back and forth with the bleachers, whose chorus work had equalled, in some respects, that on the stage. A soft light began to illumine the painted heavens, and a three-hundred-candle-power Luna, the pride and joy of Connor's heart, rose in wavering majesty.
"What in thunder is cabbages fer, if they ain't ter be et by pigs?" "Yes, you, but not fer dose kind of pig. Maybe you might eat dem und it vould be all right, but not der pig mit four feet." Carl had a small garden back of the ranch house, in which he had been raising cabbages, devoting all his spare time to them and good-naturedly taking the joshing the boys gave him.
As he sank into his chair, rather back, for the box was well filled, he saw a college classmate. "What's up?" he asked, the curtain then being down to allow of a change of scene. "Oh, Gaffington and his crowd are joshing some of the acts." "Any row?" "No, everybody takes it good-naturedly. Bunch of our fellows here to-night." "Show any good?" "Pretty fair. Some of the things are punk.
"I'll tell you the truth, so help me," Andy said heavily. "I don't know a darned thing about it, only what I read in the papers. I spent the whole winter in Colorado and Wyoming. I was just joshing the boys." "Oh," said Miguel. They stood there in the dusk and silence for a space, after which Andy went forth into the night to meditate upon this thing. Miguel stood and looked after him.
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