"I'm goin' to peddle my way back home, then git a payin' job at the racetrack." "Wasn't I tellin' ye that it was a doctor I'm goin' to be ?" asked Sandy, impatiently.

Already Ricks's friendship was proving irksome.
On the gang-plank above him the passengers were leaving the ship.
Some delay had arisen, and for a moment the procession halted.
Suddenly Sandy caught his breath.

There, just above him, stood "the damsel passing fair." Instead of the tam-o'-shanter she wore a big drooping hat of brown, which just matched the curls that were loosely tied at the back of her neck.
Sandy stood motionless and humbly adored her.

He was a born lover, lavishing his affection, without discrimination or calculation, upon whatever touched his heart.

It surely was no harm just to stand aside and look.