THE LUCK OF THE IRISH
become embarrassing. So he compromised by forcing a grin.
"I guess you can't teach old dogs new tricks. I never knew there was a word called 'yes' until it was too late to do any good. But I don't say 'uh-huh' as much as I used to. 'S that right? And, anyhow 'ye-ah' is Elijah stuff boiled down."
"Elijah stuff!"
He sighed relievedly. She was off the Camden line, and that was something gained. "Sure it's Elijah stuff. Wasn't he always hitting the trail with 'Yea, verily'?"
"I'm beginning to believe you wouldn't please me at all if you didn't use colloquialisms once in a while. Away out here there's something back-homey about them. The Indian Ocean, Arabia! That Red Sea was very hot."
"If they'd call it the Red-hot Sea I could understand what they meant. I've been leaving a trail of fat wherever I moved. Look at the clothes I'm wearing. I never thought to buy real summer stuff. They're beginning to have their first snow-storms in little New York. Say, what do you think? Thanksgiving in Delhi, and not a pumpkin within ten thousand miles."
"Honest?"
"Honest Injun. And Christmas in Hong-Kong, and everything out of tin cans. Yea, verily, I'm going to be homesick along about that time, believe me, sister."
"Christmas! I feel cooler already."
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