“Meditate!” exclaimed the red-faced Officer Schulig. “What it is 'meditate' I don't know. Iss it chumping up und schlogging an officer on der head mitout notice? Yes? In der yard I come und klop! goes his fist on my head, und no notice beforehand. Is it to meditate, such a business? Yes?”
“Sittin' there. An' meditatin',” said Harvey. “Like a saint should. Doin' no harm to nobody. Out in the fresh sunshine with a gentle heart, just startin' in to be a saint, an' up he comes—”
“Starting in to be what?” asked Henrietta.
“A saint, dod-baste it,” said Harvey angrily. “Livin' a life of purity an' gentleness, bein' kind to stray dogs an' one sort of thing an' another. Mortifyin' my flesh on bread an' water, and here he comes. Dod-baste it, a man can't set up in the saint business without a dod-basted dog police comin' an'—Why! dod-baste it, I got to begin all over again. I got to start new, an' begin all over, an' all because he come fetchin' his red face an' pokin' it at me—”
“I neffer!” cried Schulig indignantly. “Neffer do I poke my face. Fetch it along mit me; yes! But poke it? Neffer! I tell you who poked my face: you poked it! Mit your fist. Und you blame me!”
He frowned ferociously.
“I got a right to fetch my face vere I go, aind't I?” he demanded.
“No, you ain't,” said Harvey angrily. “What right you got to poke a face at a man that's just set out to be a saint, temptin' him, an' angerin' him all up, an' settin' him to swearin' an' cussin' like a pirate, an' gettin' him so mad he starts beatin' up a fellow human? What right you got to bust into a saint's first day, spoilin' the whole dod-basted business, an' arrestin' him an' pokin' faces at him an'—”
“What did he arrest you for, Mr. Redding?” Gay asked.
“Receiving stolen goods. Und grooldy to animals. Und assaulting a Chew, und also schloggin' me by my head afterwards,” said Schulig promptly.