Mrs.Beasley swooped down upon him like a gull on a minnow.
"And you!" she shrieked.

"You! a miserable little, good-for-nothin', lazy, ridiculous, dried-up--.

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Oo--oo--OH! You call yourself a town clerk! YOU do! I--I wouldn't have you clerk for a hen house! I'm an old chromo, be I?
Yes! that's nice talk, ain't it, to a woman old enough to be--that is--er--er--'most as old as you be! You sneakin', story-tellin', little, fat THING, you! You--oh, I can't lay my tongue to words to tell you WHAT you are." "You're doin' pretty well, seems to me," observed Captain Cy dryly.