United States or Latvia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Lord knows where we are, but we're more than fifty miles from land." "That as far as you can reason?" broke in Forsythe. "Jenkins, you're handy at a knockdown, but if you can't use what brain you've got, you'd better resign command here. I don't know who elected you, anyhow." "Are you looking for more, Forsythe?" asked Jenkins, taking a step toward him. "If you are, you can have it.
In their increasing perplexity, they resolved to return to the place in the quadrangle where the keys had fallen a very forlorn suggestion proceeding from Mr. Jenkins that the right keys might be lying there still, and that this rusty pair might, by some curious and unaccountable chance, have been lying there also.
"A cigar," suggested John Jenkins; but, coloring again deeply, he hid his face. "No, sir," said the Judge, with a sweet smile of benevolence stealing over his stern features; "properly invested, it would buy you that which passeth all price.
This, however, proved unprofitable, and was abandoned after a few months. Much as Barnum dreaded resuming the life of an itinerant showman, there seemed nothing else to be done, so January 2d, 1841, found him in New Orleans, with a company consisting of C. D. Jenkins, an excellent Yankee character artist; Diamond, the dancer; a violinist, and one or two others.
His cows are plastered up with mud and filth, and are covered with vermin. Where is our health inspector, that he does not exercise a more watchful supervision over establishments of this kind? To allow milk from an unclean place like this to be sold in the town, is endangering the health of its inhabitants. Upon inquiry, it was found that the man Jenkins bears a very bad character.
Surely none of the people in the house would be there after the supper we had. I went and sniffed under the door. There was a smell there; a strong smell like beggars and poor people. It smelled like Jenkins. It was Jenkins. What was the wretch doing in the house with my dear Miss Laura? I thought I would go crazy. I scratched at the door, and barked and yelped.
Mary B. Jenkins, Wellesley, '03, the committee's devoted secretary, has described the plan of the campaign in the News for March, 1915.
In the society of which the duke was the centre, every one sought to imitate that accent, those disdainful intonations with an affectation of simplicity. Jenkins, finding the sitting rather long, had risen to take his departure. "Adieu, I must be off. We shall see you at the Nabob's?" "Yes, I intend to be there for luncheon. Promised to bring him what's his name. Who was it? What?
Jenkins, laying aside his banjo. "Ditto, indeed!" nodded Mr. Stevens, slipping a hand in his host's arm, and thus linked together they made their way out of the room. Scarcely had their hilarious voices died away when a muscular brown hand parted the hangings of an open window, and Geoffrey Ravenslee climbed into the room.
"Tutt, Jenkins!" he ejaculated, with a laugh and giving me a whack on the shoulders that nearly toppled me over into the fire-place. "Don't be a rabbit. The thing will be as easy as cutting calve's-foot jelly with a razor." Thus did I permit myself to be persuaded, and the next afternoon at five, Holmes and I met in the corridor of the Fifth Avenue Hotel.
Word Of The Day