United States or Bermuda ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"You never get a chance," he assured her. "Those boy is of the gente. An' we don' call heem 'Don Mike' now. Before, yes; but now he is 'Don Miguel, like hees father. Same, too, like hees gran'father." Throughout this colloquy, Carolina had been busy exculpating herself from possible blame due to her failure to have prepared for the prodigal the sort of food she knew he preferred.
Drop anchor alongside me and do it quick or I'll take your license away from you. And I don't want any of your excuses, either. I won't listen to 'em." "What he say?" the captain asked me. "I not onderstan' hees Engleesh ver' good." "No, you wouldn't," I told him. "He's speaking a sort of patois, you see.
Noder tam he get mad on one voyageur, but he don' keel heem queek; he bring heem here, mak' heem stay in dose warm room, feed heem dose plaintee grub. Purty soon dose voyageur is get fat, is go sof; he no good for dose trail. Ole man he mak' heem go ver' far off, mos' to Whale Reever. Eet is plaintee cole. Dat voyageur, he freeze to hees inside. Dey tell me he feex heem like dat."
'Yes, but He said "any man," persisted Nelson, putting his hand on Lachlan's knee. But Lachlan shook his head. 'Dat young feller, said Baptiste; 'wha's hees nem, heh? 'He has no name. It is just a parable, explained Sandy. 'He's got no nem? He's just a parom'ble? Das no young feller? asked Baptiste anxiously; 'das mean noting?
"I no swear ever!" "And tell what you saw?" "I tell what I saw." "What did you see?" "I saw Hassoun break heem hees neck." "Didn't you say first that Hassoun stabbed Babu?" "No nevvair!" "Then didn't you come back and say he shot him?" "No nevvair!" "And finally, didn't you say he strangled him after you had heard that the coroner's physician had decided that that was how he was killed?"
Bateese gave a disgusted grunt. "Becaus' MA BELLE Jeanne have such leetle bird heart, m'sieu. She say you mus' not have noise near, lak ze talk an' laugh an' ZE CHANSONS. She say it disturb, an' zat it mak you worse wit' ze fever. She ees mak you lak de baby, Bateese say to her. But she on'y laugh at zat an' snap her leetle w'ite finger. Wait St. Pierre come! He brak yo'r head wit' hees two fists.
Put down the time you send, you know." "Oh, dat's not'ing. He know putty goot when he get it." "Very well. 'To Mr. John Thomas, State Street, Chicago. Job's ready. Come along. Who's job is it? Yours?" "No. It's hees yob yet. You mak it go to-night, all right. Goot night. I pay it now, yas. Vell, goot night."
Wen I paddle close up, I don' know 'im no more dan stranger, an' me an' Johnnie Platt is trap togeder wan winter. Wat you t'ink of dat?" "I saw a fellow killed that way at Holy Cross," interpolated the trader. "'Hello, I say, 'w'at's de matter? An' den I see somet'ing 'bout 'im dat look familiar. Hees face she's all swell' up an' bleedin' lak' raw meat."
"I tink onlee of zee price dat hee save." "What sort of a man was he? What did he look like, Chigmok?" "He dark an' vhat you call han'some. He haf sometimes one glass to hees eye, an " "Ainley, by Heaven!" cried Stane in extreme amazement. "I not know hees name," answered the half-breed, "but I tink he ees of zee Company." Anderton looked doubtfully at Stane who suffered no doubt at all.
At any rate, the little donkey was everywhere at once, biting, striking, kicking, squealing, with the venom and speed and precision of a rattlesnake, while Mignon railed, unmindful of Anthony's protests. "Ze blood on hees clothes! Bah! You 'ave all see 'ow he is carry home la petite so-hurt dog. Oui! ze dog of Monsieur Pete. Who is know where Monsieur Collins is go for new dog fight?
Word Of The Day