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"I've an engagement," invented Anisty plausibly, "with a friend at two. If you'll excuse me ? Garcon, l'addition!" "Then I und'stand, Mister Maitland, we e'n count on yeh?" Anisty, eyelids drooping, tipped back his chair a trifle and regarded Hickey with a fair imitation of the whimsical Maitland smile. "Hardly, I think." "Why not?" truculently.
Jepson has hired a lawyer and looked up that claim to the last infinitesimal hickey; he knows more about the Old Juan than I do. And speaking about quarrels, don't you know that fellow deliberately framed the whole thing? He wanted to know just where I stood on the Old Juan and he wanted to get me in bad with you." "With me?" "Yes, with you! Why, can't you see his game?
But, indeed, if I told all the stories I should like to tell this book would have no end. So we must leave them and pass on. The Story of Havelok the Dane, rendered into later English by Emily Hickey. The Lay of Havelok the Dane, edited by W. W. Skeat in the original English. BESIDES the metrical romances, we may date another kind of story from this time. I mean the ballads.
"Well may you cry aloud for mercy, sir!" exclaimed the professor, for he it was who had suddenly come to the rescue, forgetting even the pain of his ankle in the crisis. "Even in Homer you may find it written, 'Never kick a man when he's down." "Phew!" whistled Hickey, his smile puckering up his whole face in an evil grimace. "This is growing interesting." "Sanctissima Santos! Take him off!
You can come round at your convenience and arrange the details with me, at my rooms, since you will be so kind." "I dunno." Hickey licked his lips, watching with a somber eye the preparations being made for the removal of Anisty's body. "I'd 've give a farm if I could've caught that son of a gun alive!" he added at apparent random, and vindictively. "All right.
Some months later, at Cairo, I received a packet of Irish newspapers, and a leading article, cut from The Times, on the subject of the miracle. Father Hickey had suffered the meed of his inhospitable conduct. The committee, arriving at Four Mile Water the day after I left, had found the graveyard exactly where it formerly stood.
The boat in which it had been arranged that Hickey, Divver and Rafter were to take passage had been appropriated by the boys. "A thousand evils light upon them," raged Ramon, as he stood dripping on the bank of the stream. "It is a hundred to one that they also seize the three horses I had reserved for your use, gentlemen."
Harding whipped around in his saddle like a flash. "Say, Jim Hickey," he snapped, "those are funny sentiments coming from you. You didn't feel that way during your famous campaign in Venezuela, did you?" "Well, it wasn't so near home, you see," rather lamely explained Jack, wishing that he had bitten his tongue out before he had made such a break.
By discreet manipulation Maitland worked the car down to the street floor again, and Hickey with a grunt that might be interpreted as an apology for his incredulity, jumped in. "Let 'er rip!" he cried exultantly. "Fan them folks out intuh th' street, Bergen, 'nd watch ow-ut!"
"Why, you don't suppose He would mind a little thing like a smile with the boys now and then, or a quiet game of poker, do you?" "What I say, Ike, is this if you thought He did mind, would you quit?" "Why, sure. You just bet! I said so." "Well, Ike, supposing some one of those chaps from the Pass, say Hickey, should walk up and hit you right the face, what would you do?" "What?
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