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They say this young gent is sweet on Miss N.; which, I guess, I wish he may git it. Tommy. He! he! he! Backystopper. Brayvo, Tommy. Tom ain't much of a man for conversation, but he's a precious one to drink. Do you think the young gent is sweet on her, Tommy? I sor him often prowling about our 'ouse in Queen Street, when we was in London. Tommy. I guess he wasn't let in in Queen Street.
It happened to be one of those seasons when work is scarce and food dear, and the crowd in that quarter was sympathetic even with a giant who took the food they all desired. They applauded the second phase of his meal, and laughed at his stupid grimace at the policeman. "I woff hungry," he said, with his mouth full. "Brayvo!" cried the crowd. "Brayvo!"
Something about 'prances, O! on her horse, you know, or you're a hem'd fool if you don't. I never could sing; wish I could! It's the joy of life! It's utterance! Hey for harmony!" "Eh! brayvo! now you're a man, Steeve! and welcomer and welcomest; yi yi, O!" jolly Butcher Billing sang out sharp. "Life wants watering.
Then your turn comes, and you ups and says, 'most as chuff as he does: `No, uncle, you says, `I give him the orflest leathering he ever had in his life. `Did you, Aleck? he says, rubbing his hands together, joyful like. `Well done, my boy, he says; `I like that. I wish I'd been there to see. Brayvo! Now go and wash your face and brush your clothes and 'air." "Think he would, Tom?"
Before he could recover Hayward had swung the girl on his horse, leaped into the saddle, and dashed off at full speed. He did not draw rein till he carried her over the frontier into Canada, and had placed her beyond the reach of her enemies." "Brayvo! the doctor," exclaimed Slag, heartily.
Glory felt dizzy yet self-possessed; she gave a little audible laugh while she stood bowing between the verses. In a few minutes the song was finished and the people were stamping, whistling, uttering screeching cat-calls, and shouting "Brayvo!" But Glory was sitting at the foot of the stage by this time with a face contorted as in physical pain.
"Mahdi," he said, impressively, as he drew himself up, "you have indeed the power to torture and kill me, but you have not the power to open my lips, or cause me to bring dishonour on my country!" "Brayvo, Johnny! Pitch into him!" cried the delighted Molloy.
"What's all this?" asked John. "Julia leaves this place to-morrow," replied Morris. "She must go up to town and get the house ready, and find servants. We shall all follow in three days." "Oh, brayvo!" cried John. "But why?" "I've found it out, John," returned his brother gently. "It? What?" inquired John. "Why Michael won't compromise," said Morris. "It's because he can't.
"Brayvo, my dear," exclaimed Larry, coming to the rescue; "you're more nor match for him, so be marciful, like a good sowl, an' let's hear about this estate, for it seems to me, from what I've heard, it must be somewhere in the neighbourhood of Bunco's native place."
"Pah, ha, ha!" roared the great fellow beside him, brandishing his spear; and seizing the greenstone paddle-like weapon, which hung from his neck, in his left hand, as he struck an attitude, turned up his eyes till the whites only were visible, distorted his face hideously, and thrust out his great tongue till it was far below his chin. "Brayvo! Brayvo!
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