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"I reckoned you wouldn't find Mike here," Buck chuckled, "f'r while you was gone a message come from Mike. He can't get here now, but he's sent the kid!" "He has?" cried the woman, joyfully. "Do you mean to tell me, Buck, that the boy is right down there this minute, in my cabin?" "Sure I do," was the reply, "an' a bright little feller he is." "Give us a guess on that," whispered Jack to Oliver.
Craig was standin' right there, 'n' she spoke up pretty sharp at that 'n' said 't he hadn't throwed but one cat in her well 'n' she wanted that distinctly understood. Mrs. Jilkins jus' laughed, but then some one up 'n' told her about the minister bein' gone f'r good, 'n' she very quickly changed her tune. "That blow 's goin' to fall heaviest on Mrs.
He may find flyin' machines, though it'll be arly f'r thim, but he'll see a good manny people still walkin' to their wurruk." "What's an expert witness?" asked Mr. Hennessy. "An expert witness," said Mr. Dooley, "is a doctor that thinks a man must be crazy to be rich. That's thrue iv most iv us, but these doctors don't mean it th' way I do.
'Twas thrue I didn't vote f'r it, bein' that I heerd Stephen A. Douglas say 'twas onconstitootional, an' in thim days I wud go to th' flure with anny man f'r th' constitootion. I'm still with it, but not sthrong. It's movin' too fast f'r me. But no matther.
If Schwartzmeister didn't pay him f'r half-solin' a pair iv Congress gaiters he used to wear in thim days, he tied a sthring arround his finger f'r to remind him that he had to kill Ludwig. 'What have ye again' th' king? says I. 'He is an opprissor iv th' poor, he says. 'So ar-re ye, I says, 'or ye'd mend boots free. 'He's explodin' th' prolotoorio, he says.
"It's a fine room," said Mr. Jope, walking up to a statue of Diana: "but a man couldn' hardly invite a mixed company to dinner here." "Symonds's f'r instance," suggested Mr. Adams. Symonds's being a somewhat notorious boarding-house in a street of Plymouth which shall be nameless. "You ought to be ashamed o' yourself, Bill," said Mr. Jope sternly. "They're anticks, that's what they are." Mr.
Pett backed convulsively into the padded recesses of her chair, feeling as if somebody had thrown a brick at her. "Good afternoon," she said faintly. "Gladda meecher, siz Pett. Mr. Sturge semme up. Said y'ad job f'r me. Came here squick scould." "I beg your pardon?" "Squick scould. Got slow taxi." "Oh, yes."
It's manny th' time I've licked ye good, Jimmie, when ye was a la-ad, an' it's agin I'll do it if I has ter, ter learn ye honesty. Now git up an' set in that chair an' do phwat I tell ye, if ye know phwat's best f'r ye." James Riley rose from the floor and sat obediently in the chair his father indicated.
"Jawn," he said, "d'ye know that, whin I think iv th' thoughts that's been in my head f'r a week, I don't dare to look Tim Clancy in th' face." "Th' defeat iv Humanity be Prosperity was wan iv th' raysults iv th' iliction," said Mr. Dooley. "What are you talking about?" asked Mr. McKenna, gruffly. "Well," said Mr.
"F'r heaven's sakes, Dike, wake up! We're livin' here. This is our place. We ain't rubes no more." Dike turned to his father. A little stunned look crept into his face. A stricken, pitiful look. There was something about it that suddenly made old Ben think of Pearlie when she had been slapped by her quick-tempered mother. "But I been countin' on the farm," he said miserably.
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