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"I'd like to have been able to kick the fellow down the steps," said he to himself, as he saw the door fairly closed, "with his impudent assurance; but he knows how much he has me at advantage.
"I am sure when you were his age you used to kick and scream just as he does when his wishes are not carried out on the instant," she said. "You don't kick and scream now when you are vexed; you look like thunder, and walk out of the room." "Baby seems to afford you infinite satisfaction when he kicks and screams.
In all lines of business, just as soon as one firm gets out a popular style, every other one in the country hops right on to it, so it is all nonsense for a salesman not to sell more than one man in a town when the names in the goods are different, and the merchant, when such is the case, has no kick coming on the man who sells one of his competitors.
I'm going back up there and I'm going to swim across or get across and I'm going to find out what he has there he doesn't want us to see. Are you game to go along?" "But supposing there's nothing there, and the man " "That island doesn't belong to anybody. We've got as much right there as he has. The worst he can do is to kick us off, and there's only one of him against two of us. Come on."
Stop, my good cow!" He wanted to come up with the cow, so as to examine her, and see if she would appear to know him, or whether there were any peculiarities to distinguish her from a thousand other cows, whose only business is to fill the milk-pail, and sometimes kick it over.
First he turned himself into a tick, and hid himself in Dapplegrim's left nostril; and the Princess went about hunting him everywhere, high and low; at last she wanted to go into Dapplegrim's stall, but he began to bite and kick, so that she daren't go near him, and so she couldn't find the lad.
But why was such a paper considered valuable by the Secret Service? As he returned to his seat, Kirtley gave the legs a kick "just for luck." He could not help laughing. The burlesque! The Germans were certainly a curious people. This was like some fantastic tale of Hoffmann with its marionettes and other childish stuff so dear to the race.
So not once had he rebelled. Nor was he rebelling now. And yet and this was his emotional conflict within him was a vague feeling that he should rebel, should kick, buck, toss, and pitch, and throw off this stranger.
Yes, you may hit him fair, and make him bleed, too; but, for all that, he is a lion a mighty, conquering, generous, rampageous Leo Belgicus monarch of his wood. And he is not dead yet, and I will not kick at him. SIR ANTONY. In that "Pieta" of Van Dyck, in the Museum, have you ever looked at the yellow-robed angel, with the black scarf thrown over her wings and robe?
We don't expect them to change, but they mustn't expect us not to. And even some of them have begun to whisper a little doubtfully. But never mind them here's the negro. We can't kick him out. That plan is childish. So, it's like two men having to live in one house. The white man would keep the house in repair, the black would let it rot. Well, the black must take orders from the white.
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