We stayed on in Pina because we liked the place. Some folks might enjoy
their money with noise and rapture and locomotion; but me and Mack we
had had plenty of turmoils and hotel towels. The people were friendly;
Ah Sing got the swing of the grub we liked; Mack and Buckle were as
thick as two body-snatchers, and I was hitting out a cordial resemblance
to “Buffalo Gals, Can’t You Come Out To-night,” on the banjo.
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