“There ain’t none,” says he.
“None what?” asks Dirty.
“E-clipse of the sun.”
“Professor Smythe and Professor Doolittle have ruined their eyes working on scientific data,” explains Waldemar.
“Why confine your post mortem to eyes?” asks Magpie. “’Pears to me that they’ve ruined the rest of ’em, too. I suppose that one—” pointing at me—“got warped in the legs from studyin’ the shape of the earth. Can’t they talk United States?”
“They were born in this country,” says Waldemar.
“What part?” asks the judge.
“All of us, you —— fool!” I snaps.
“Think we were assembled?”
“Goin’ to Piperock?” asks Magpie.