Already over the green-brown, soaking grass one or two pioneer grackle were walking busily about; and somewhere in a near tree the first robin chirked and chirped and fussed in its loud and familiar fashion, only partly pleased to find himself in the gray thaw of the scarcely comfortable North once more.
Portlaw looked up dully: "Those robins come up here and fatten on our fruit, and a fool law forbids us to shoot 'em.

Robin pie," he added, "is not to be despised, but a sentimental legislature is the limit....
Sentiment always did bore me....

How do you feel after your luncheon ?" "All right," said Hamil, smiling.

"I'd like to start out as soon as Malcourt comes back." "Oh, don't begin that sort of thing the moment you get here!" protested Portlaw.

"My heavens, man! there's no hurry.