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Jeff had planned what he would say to her, but at this his disgust got the better of him. "Lucy," said he and his voice had changed from lightness to gravity "don't you mind a bit saying what isn't true?" "What do you mean, Jefferson Birch, by saying such a thing?" Lucy's tone was one of mingled anger and fright.
He began to consume his cigar once more by inches and watched the effect of his words. There was no visible effect. McCoppet had never been calmer in his life outwardly. Inwardly he had never felt Dearer to death, and his own kind of fright was upon him. "Well," he said, "your aces look good to me. What do you want how much?"
The candles were now lighted. What brightness! What splendor! The Tree trembled so in every bough that one of the tapers set fire to a green branch. It blazed up splendidly. Now the Tree did not even dare to tremble. That was a fright!
Do you think there's anything WRONG?" and she began to cry, in sheer, hysterical fright and discomfort. "It IS queer," agreed Bill, looking out into the hall, and listening. Then Patty's practical good sense came to her aid. "Nonsense!" she said. "You're an ungrateful bunch! Here you have shelter from the storm, and you all begin to cry!
He lost his swelled-up appearance as suddenly as a bubble flattens out when it is pricked. With a frantic beating of his wings he took to the air. Being in such a fright, he didn't see where he was going, and struck his head against a sharp twig, which tore the skin, for there were no feathers to protect it, and made it bleed.
Can't you do something for me? I don't mind the pain either so much as being such a fright. Pray, how am I to be fit to appear at breakfast with Mrs. Strathspey; and I suppose I can't go to the ball either to-morrow, after all." "No, that you can't expect to do, indeed," said Betty. "You need not think of balls, for those lumps and swellings won't go off your face this week.
Pretty soon the creature forgot his fright and looked like a normal horse again. "If he was mine I'd give him whip a-plenty till he learned better," drawled Pete Dickerson, finally. "Don't you ever dare touch him with the whip again!" cried the girl, stamping her foot. "He will not stand it. You were told " "Aw, well," said the fellow, "'I didn't think he was going to cut up as bad as that.
Am I so bad as that? am I?" Scarcely two seconds afterward she had sprung to her feet and was standing by the side of her couch, her heart beating with a rapid throb of fright, her limbs trembling. A strange sound had fallen suddenly upon the perfect silence of the night a sound loud, hard, and sharp the report of a pistol! What dread seized her she knew not.
By George, it taught me something of the Hades the poor fellow must have passed through. I've been in pretty tight corners in my day and I know what it is to have the cold fear creeping down my spine; but that week gave me the fright of my life." "I wish you had told me," said I, "I might have helped. Why didn't you?" "I didn't like to.
Hardly would her limbs carry her, but with slow step she reached the hidden room. He lay as she had left him. Was he asleep, or dead? She crept near and laid her hand on his forehead. He started to his feet in an agony of fright. She soothed and reassured him as best she was able. When the paroxysm relaxed "You didn't whistle," he said.
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