"What ees them fan-tods? Ees eet the same as the malaria I hear you say they have sometimes een the United States?"
"Nope. The fan-tods are something like the blues. A feller gits them when he realizes he's one of the biggest chumps walkin' raound on two laigs."
She could get nothing more out of him, and finally she sought her friend, Juanita Garcia, to whom she confided her fears that Ephraim was on the verge of a sick spell.
Gallup wandered off by himself and strolled around the grounds, with his head down and his hands in his pockets, occasionally muttering and growling in a disgusted manner.
Barney Mulloy found an opportunity to follow Ephraim.
"Come on, Eph," he said, slipping an arm through Gallup's, "let's you and Oi go for a warruk. You nade it, my bhoy—you nade it."
"If yeou'll jest take me daown to the lake and kick me in, I'll be much obleeged to ye, Barney," said the Vermonter.
"It's moighty bad you're faling, Oi dunno?"
"By gum! I oughter feel bad. Yeou heard Frank talking about jest sech gol-dinged chumps as I be. He made me so tarnal disgusted with myself that I wanted to find a hole and crawl into it. The trouble was that I didn't know where I could find a hole small enough."
"It's a livel head Frankie has, Ephie."