to the non-boxing foreigner who meditates assault and battery, continued—
"Now yew stop zanking and playing versteckens with me, yew pie-faced Squarehead, and be schnell about it, or yew'll git my goat, see? Vous obtiendrez mon chèvre, yew perambulating prachtvoll bierhalle," and he coolly turned his back upon the infuriated German with a polite, if laborious, "Guten tag, mein Freund."
Mr. Hiram Cyrus Milton (late of Texas, California, the Yukon, and the "main drag" generally of the wild and woolly West) was exceeding proud of his linguistic knowledge and skill. It may be remarked, en passant, that his friends were even prouder of it.
At this moment, le bon Légionnaire Malvin, hovering for opportunity, with a sudden coup de savate struck the so-desirable scrubbing-brush from the hand of Herr Schnitzel with a force that seemed like to take the arm from the shoulder with it. Leaping round with a yell of pain, the unfortunate German found himself, as Malvin had calculated, face to face with the mighty Luigi Rivoli, to attack whom was to be brought to death's door through that of the hospital.
Snatching up the brush which was behind Schnitzel when he turned to face Rivoli, le bon M. Malvin lightly departed from the vulgar scuffle in the direction of the drying clothes of Herren Schnitzel and Dupont, the latter, last seen clasping, with more enthusiasm than love, a wiry Italian to his bosom. The luck of M. Malvin was distinctly in, for not only had he the soap and a brush for the easy cleansing of his own uniform, but he had within his grasp a fresh uniform to wear, and another to sell; for the clothing of ce
