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"That's because he was so naughty," explained the May baby, holding up an impressive finger, "and didn't want to go to the Himmel and didn't love glory." "All boys are naughty," said June, "and I don't love them." "Nous allons parler Francais" I announced, desirous of finding out whether their whole stock was represented by diable and betise; "I believe you can all speak it quite well."

Beautiful thought. "Mabel, little Mabel, with her face against the pane, sits beside the window, looking at the rain." That was Capt. MacVeagh of the British army, prisoner in a La Salle Street hall bedroom. No clothes to wear, nothing but the soup and fish. So he must sit and wait till evening came, till a gentleman could put on his best bib and tucker, and then allons!

You look at them as you see them with their pipes and their contented faces, and you say, 'Now, these are good, simple folk, who will never hurt any one. But all the time they are thinking and watching and planning. 'Here is Egypt weak, they cry. 'Allons! and down they swoop like a gull upon a crust. 'You have no right there, says the world.

My heart was not of stone then, monsieur. It could not beat fast enough for happiness. It was the heart of a girl. I remember it all very clearly. I always shall, monsieur." "Allons!" said our statesman. "The officer is well cared for."

She turned to Peggy, who stood in some alarm, not knowing whether the old friend or the new should claim her allegiance. "Allons!" she cried. "The door, Peggy! which door will take us to this place of joy? this one? Hein! it is locked; it will not open." "That must be Uncle John's room," said Peggy. "It is always locked. I I have tried it two or three times."

But allons, we proceeded to make the best use of our time ham, good fish, excellent eggs, fresh coffee, superb when we again heard the fieldpieces above us open their fire, and in the intervals we could distinguish the distant rattle of musketry.

Oh, to be back in Paris, her home, where she had lived with him, where every stick and stone was dear to her because of him! Then, glancing up at the clock, with an abrupt change of key, 'Mais allons donc, paresseux! You must take me to see the camarades. You must take me to see Chalks.

What they cannot stand are repeated, long, hard marches; their legs give out under the load of rifle and pack. But their hearts are in the war, and right there is one very practical reason why they will fight well and they have fought better as they hardened with time and the old French spirit revived in their blood. "Allons, messieurs!" said the tall major, who wanted us to see battlefields.

I do not think he has; at all events here are the alternatives, and the wiser is invariably the more unpleasant. Allons! Victor, advienne que pourra, and Heaven help us!" He ran quickly down the stair into the fosse, crept along in the shelter of the ivy for a little, saw that no one was visible, and darted across and up to a postern in the eastern turret.

And the fairy dreams, evoked by a wave of Fortune's wand, crept silently back into the hearts of their owners. At Gaskin's announcement, bedlam broke loose among the diners. They leaped to their feet and rushed headlong from the messroom. "Get th' buckets!" "Man th' boat!" "We'll niver get there in toime!" "Allons! Allons!" "W'y didn't we put a guard on 'er!" "Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" "Yes, 'urry!