A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court HTML version
"And so I'm proprietor of some knights," said I, as we rode off. "Who would ever have
supposed that I should live to list up assets of that sort. I shan't know what to do with
them; unless I raffle them off. How many of them are there, Sandy?"
"Seven, please you, sir, and their squires."
"It is a good haul. Who are they? Where do they hang out?"
"Where do they hang out?"
"Yes, where do they live?"
"Ah, I understood thee not. That will I tell eftsoons." Then she said musingly, and softly,
turning the words daintily over her tongue: "Hang they out--hang they out--where hang--
where do they hang out; eh, right so; where do they hang out. Of a truth the phrase hath a
fair and winsome grace, and is prettily worded withal. I will repeat it anon and anon in
mine idlesse, whereby I may peradventure learn it. Where do they hang out. Even so!
already it falleth trippingly from my tongue, and forasmuch as--"
"Don't forget the cowboys, Sandy."
"Yes; the knights, you know: You were going to tell me about them. A while back, you
remember. Figuratively speaking, game's called."
"Yes, yes, yes! Go to the bat. I mean, get to work on your statistics, and don't burn so
much kindling getting your fire started. Tell me about the knights."
"I will well, and lightly will begin. So they two departed and rode into a great forest.
You see, I recognized my mistake at once. I had set her works a-going; it was my own
fault; she would be thirty days getting down to those facts. And she generally began
without a preface and finished without a result. If you interrupted her she would either go
right along without noticing, or answer with a couple of words, and go back and say the
sentence over again. So, interruptions only did harm; and yet I had to interrupt, and
interrupt pretty frequently, too, in order to save my life; a person would die if he let her
monotony drip on him right along all day.