“I can talk,” says Dirty Shirt, “and I’ve studied ellie-cu-shun. I can make gestures, y’betcha.”
“We ain’t usin’ none in this ta-blew, Dirty,” states the judge.
“She’s to be pulled off almost in the dark, bein’ as she’s a night pitcher, and gestures ain’t goin’ to do nothin’ but mebbe ruin the thing. You hang onto your gestures and let nature take her course.”
“Talk ain’t much without yuh gestures,” complains Dirty.
“Your talk wouldn’t be much with ’em!” snaps Magpie. “Shut up.”
“If you knowed anythin’ about ellie-cu-shun, you’d ——”
“If you’re goin’ to be a wise man, Scenery,” says Magpie, soft-like, “you’ll practise up right now by keepin’ your —— mouth shut. Sabe? Go ahead and gesture if yuh want to, but keep still.”
“Well, if I can’t talk, I won’t, but jist the same—”
“Stop!” howls Magpie. “Scenery, if you don’t shut up you’ll never live to run for office again.”
“I ain’t goin’ to run again,” says Scenery. “I wouldn’t have the job again.”