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So, if you will come to me in the morning, Squire Loring, John Widdicombe's suit will be handed over to you." "Then with the King's leave, I will hand it back to him," said Nigel, troubled and stammering; "for indeed I had rather never ride to the wars than take from a brave man his only suit of plate." "There spoke your father's spirit!" cried the King. "By the rood! Nigel, I like you full well.
Down it could be seen the headlight of an approaching trolley, and also the twin lamps of an oncoming automobile. "Look out for the auto, children!" cried Mrs. Bobbsey. They stood at the side of the road, and as the auto came up the man in it slowed down his machine. It was a big car and he was alone in it. "Well, I declare!" exclaimed the autoist, as his engine stopped.
"My good man, don't talk rubbish!" said Horace. "I'm talking to you about what I know, and I assert that an Englishman's 'ome is his cashle, and nobody's got the right when his backsh turned to go and make a 'Ummums of it. Not nobody 'asn't!" "Make a what of it?" cried Ventimore. "A 'Ummums that's English, ain't it? A bloomin' Turkish baths!
"Leave me, leave me where I am," cried he, peevishly. "I thought I might have had my last few moments tranquil, when I staggered thus far." "Come, come, Comrade!" said another, in a voice of comforting; "come, thou wert never faint-hearted before. Thou hast had thy share of bruises, and cared little about them too. Art dry?" "Yes; give me another drink.
The brothers had just sense enough left to put up all the shutters, and double bar the door, before they went to bed. They usually slept in the same room. As the clock struck twelve, they were both awakened by a tremendous crash. Their door burst open with a violence that shook the house from top to bottom. "What's that?" cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed.
Tell me, have you the interpretation?" cried the young man, on whom the hardness of his own position was pressing at the moment. They went on together in silence for a few minutes, without any attempt on Gerald's part to answer.
"Now we're all right!" cried Alice, joyfully. "How do you know?" Miss Pennington wanted to know. "You'll see. They'll stop the stampede," was the confident answer. And this was done. With the piling up of some of the steers into an almost inextricable mass, and the dividing of the other bunch just as they reached the foot of the mound, the danger to the girls was over.
The party took the light from her hand, and went into the room, where they perceived the bed empty and the window open. "Devil a bit of a proctor here, anyhow," cried one of them, "and the window open. He's off hurrah! my lads, he can't be far."
Then she struggled up and mooned about the house and garden, and cried weakly from time to time, and felt depressed and bored, and as if life were over and she were at the bottom of the sea. "This must be what mother feels," she thought.
"Philip has come, Philip has come," cried the children, as if some great good had again come into the household; and the refrain even sang itself over in Ruth's heart as she went the weary hospital rounds. Mr. Bolton felt more courage than he had had in months, at the sight of his manly face and the sound of his cheery voice.
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