It's dis gentlemans wants someting--and so I bring him over." "That's mighty kind of ye, Otto--wait till I get me book.

Careful, Mike." The Irishman had just dumped a trunk on the sidewalk, ready to be loaded on Jim's wagon.

"And now," continued his mistress, "go to the office and bring me my order-book--where'll I go for your baggage, sir ?" "That is a matter I will talk about later." He had taken her all in with a rapid glance--her rosy, laughing face, her head covered by a close-fitting hood, the warm shawl crossed over her full bosom and knotted in the back, short skirt, stout shoes, and gray yarn stockings.
"I don't care where it is--Hoboken, Brooklyn--I'll get it.

Why, we got a trunk last week clear from Yonkers!" "I haven't a doubt of it, my good woman"-- he was still absorbed in the contemplation of her perfect health and the air of breezy competency flowing out from her, making even the morning air seem more exhilarating--"but you may not want to go for my two trunks." "Why not ?" She was serious now, her brows knitting, trying to solve his meaning.
Kling shuffled up alongside.

"It's de room he vants, Kitty.