“This idiot here—-» He turned to the exulting soldier and burst out with a flood of white-hot Italian lava, and the next moment he was bowing, and the soldier and I were moving in procession again—he in the lead and ashamed, this time, I with my chin up. And so we marched by the crowd of fascinated passengers, and I went forth to the train with the honors of war. Tobacco and all.
CHAPTER XXI. Man will do many things to get himself loved, he will do all things to get himself envied.
—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.
Before I saw Australia I had never heard of the «weet-weet» at all. I met but few men who had seen it thrown—at least I met but few who mentioned having seen it thrown.”