Martin Eden Ch 18 p173

Paul Stought

May 30

CHAPTER 18	CHAPTUR 18
Monday morning, Joe groaned over the first truck load of clothes to the washer.	Mundae maurning, Joe groend oevur dhu furst truk loed uv kloedhz too dhu woshur.
"I say," he began.	"Ie sae," hy bigan.
"Don't talk to me," Martin snarled.	"Doent taulk too my," Mortun snorld.
"I'm sorry, Joe," he said at noon, when they knocked off for dinner.	"Ie'm sory, Joe," hy sed at noon, when dhae nokd of faur dinur.
Tears came into the other's eyes.	Tirz kaem into dhy udhur'z iez.
"That's all right, old man," he said. "We're in hell, an' we can't help ourselves. An', you know, I kind of like you a whole lot. That's what made it—hurt. I cottoned to you from the first."	"Dhat's aul riet, oeld man," hy sed. "Wy'r in hel, an' wy kan't help ourselvz. An', ue noe, Ie kiend uv liek ue u hoel lot. Dhat's whot maed it—hurt. Ie kotund too ue frum dhu furst."
Martin shook his hand.	Mortun shwk hiz hand.
"Let's quit," Joe suggested. "Let's chuck it, an' go hoboin'. I ain't never tried it, but it must be dead easy. An' nothin' to do. Just think of it, nothin' to do. I was sick once, typhoid, in the hospital, an' it was beautiful. I wish I'd get sick again."	"Let's kwit," Joe sugjestud. "Let's chuk it, an' goe hoebo.in'. Ie aent nevur tried it, but it must by ded yzy. An' nuthin' too doo. Just thingk uv it, nuthin' too doo. Ie wuz sik wuns, tiefoid, in dhu hospitul, an' it wuz buetiful. Ie wish Ie'd get sik ugen."
The week dragged on. The hotel was full, and extra "fancy starch" poured in upon them. They performed prodigies of valor. They fought late each night under the electric lights, bolted their meals, and even got in a half hour's work before breakfast. Martin no longer took his cold baths. Every moment was drive, drive, drive, and Joe was the masterful shepherd of moments, herding them carefully, never losing one, counting them over like a miser counting gold, working on in a frenzy, toil-mad, a feverish machine, aided ably by that other machine that thought of itself as once having been one Martin Eden, a man.	Dhu wyk dragd on. Dhu hoetel wuz fwl, and ekstru "fansy storch" paurd in upon dhem. Dhae purfaurmd produjyz uv valur. Dhae faut laet ych niet undur dhy ilektrik liets, boeltud dher mylz, and yvun got in u haf our'z wurk bifaur brekfust. Mortun noe longgur twk hiz koeld baths. Evry moemunt wuz driev, driev, and Joe wuz dhu masturful shepurd uv moemunts, hurding dhem kerfuly, nevur loozing wun, kounting dhem oevur liek u miezur kounting goeld, wurking on in u frenzy, toil-mad, u fyvurish mushyn, aedud aebly bie dhat udhur mushyn dhat thaut uv itself az wuns having bin wun Mortun Ydun, u man.
173a	173a
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