The waltz in the back room being finished, the three couples, followed by the fiddler and the pianist and heading for the bar, caught Daylight's eye.
"Surge along, you-all" he cried.

"Surge along and name it.

This is my night, and it ain't a night that comes frequent.

Surge up, you Siwashes and Salmon-eaters.

It's my night, I tell you-all--" "A blame mangy night," Charley Bates interpolated.
"You're right, my son," Burning Daylight went on gaily.
"A mangy night, but it's MY night, you see.