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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"Victory"

Jones" didn't alter his comfortable, gossiping attitude.
"Garn! What if he did want to see his money back, like any tame
shopkeeper, hash-seller, gin-slinger, or ink-spewer does? Fancy a mud
turtle like you trying to pass an opinion on a gentleman! A gentleman
isn't to be sized up so easily. Even I ain't up to it sometimes. For
instance, that night, all he did was to waggle his finger at me. The
skipper stops his silly chatter, surprised.
"'Eh? What's the matter?' asks he.
"The matter! It was his reprieve--that's what was the matter.
"'O, nothing, nothing,' says my gentleman. 'You are perfectly right. A
log--nothing but a log.'
"Ha, ha! Reprieve, I call it, because if the skipper had gone on with
his silly argument much longer he would have had to be knocked out
of the way. I could hardly hold myself in on account of the precious
minutes. However, his guardian angel put it into his head to shut up and
go back to his bed. I was ramping mad about the lost time."
"'Why didn't you let me give him one on his silly coconut sir?' I asks.
"'No ferocity, no ferocity,' he says, raising his finger at me as calm
as you please.
"You can't tell how a gentleman takes that sort of thing. They don't
lost their temper. It's bad form. You'll never see him lose his
temper--not for anybody to see anyhow. Ferocity ain't good form,
either--that much I've learned by this time, and more, too.


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