"Go on, you old crash-basher! Chew it up! It's good for you, if you
don't try to bolt your vittles. Fletcherize, you pig! That's right
--YOU'LL never get a lump in your gizzard. Want some more? Here's
a nice, shiny one."
The words were indistinguishable, but Sheridan inclined his head to
Gurney's ear and shouted fiercely: "Talkin' to himself! By George!"
Gurney laughed reassuringly, and shook his head.
Bibbs returned to song:
Chang! Chang, bash, chang! It's I!
WHO looks a mustang in the eye?
Fearless and bo--
His father grasped him by the arm. "Here!" he shouted. "Let ME show
you how to run a strip through there. The foreman says you're some
better'n you used to be, but that's no way to handle--Get out the way
and let me show you once."
"Better be careful," Bibbs warned him, stepping to one side.
"Careful? Boh!" Sheridan seized a strip of zinc from the box.
"What you talkin' to yourself about? Tryin' to make yourself think
you're so abused you're goin' wrong in the head?"
"'Abused'? No!" shouted Bibbs. "I was SINGING--because I 'like it'!
I told you I'd come back and 'like it.'"
Sheridan may not have understood.
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