The Luck of Roaring Camp and Other Tales by Bret Harte
page 40 of 522 (07%)
page 40 of 522 (07%)
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The driver got down and tried the gate. It was securely locked. "Miggles! O Miggles!" No answer. "Migg-ells! You Miggles!" continued the driver, with rising wrath. "Migglesy!" joined in the expressman persuasively. "O Miggy! Mig!" But no reply came from the apparently insensate Miggles. The Judge, who had finally got the window down, put his head out and propounded a series of questions, which if answered categorically would have undoubtedly elucidated the whole mystery, but which the driver evaded by replying that "if we didn't want to sit in the coach all night we had better rise up and sing out for Miggles." So we rose up and called on Miggles in chorus, then separately. And when we had finished, a Hibernian fellow passenger from the roof called for "Maygells!" whereat we all laughed. While we were laughing the driver cried, "Shoo!" We listened. To our infinite amazement the chorus of "Miggles" was repeated from the other side of the wall, even to the final and supplemental "Maygells." "Extraordinary echo!" said the Judge. "Extraordinary d--d skunk!" roared the driver contemptuously. "Come |
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