United States or Czechia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Once the newness was taken off the acquaintance, the baroness made an appeal to the hostess for a favour. "Ah, Laty Washington," she begged, "ze surgeons, zay declare my goot husband he cannot recovair ze fevair in ze so hot climate, and zat ze one goot for him will be zat he to New York restores himself.
These are outside my instructions. Trifles, perhaps. Officially they are to be ignored. Laties come and go I am a man of ze worldt. I haf known wise men wear sandals and efen practice vegetarian habits. I haf known men or at any rate, I haf known chemists who did not schmoke. You haf, no doubt, put ze laty down somewhere. Well. Let us get to business.
Had the old chap also read the letters? He must think him a scorcher if he had. "Oh! that's aw-right," he said, "about 'er. I 'adn't any doubts about that. He stopped. The secretary certainly had a most appalling stare. It seemed ages before he looked down again. "Well, ze laty as you please. She is your affair. I haf performt my instructions. And ze title of Paron, zat also can pe done.
"Come, Dominie," he called out, for by this time the feast had produced its familiarity "Come, Dominie, you have acquitted yourself so well as a lecturer, that we are all dying to hear you preach." "A lady do you say, sir?" asked the parson, who was as merry as any of us. "A laty a laty" shouted six or seven at once. "The Tominie's laty the Tominie's laty."
Such words are not fit for a lady to hear." The old man heard her rise: he fell on his knees, and held out his arms in entreaty. "She's pegging your pardons, my laty. Sit town once more, anchel from hefen, and she'll not say it no more. Put she'll pe telling you ta story, and then you'll pe knowing tat what 'll not pe fit for laties to hear, as coot laties had to pear!"
“Chorus, Baron!” And then he trolled in waltz time this edifying refrain— “My lady friend, my lady friend! Can’t you twig, dear boys, From the sound of the kisses She isn’t my misses, She’s only my lady friend!” In a voice like a train going over a bridge the Baron chimed in— “My laty vrient, my laty vrient!
John Laty, a well known London newspaper man wrote the following account of his second attempt: "As we draw near Cape Grisnez light, aboard the Earnest, Capt. Edward Dane, preparations are made by Mr. M. Boyton for proceeding ashore to assist in his brother's departure. A boat is lowered from the davits. It is soon manned, your artist slipping down the rope with the agility of a sailor.
"And why haven't you your own name now? I'm sure it's a much prettier name." "Pecause she'll pe taking the other, my tear laty." "And why?" "Pecause pecause ... She will tell you another time. She'll pe tired to talk more apout ta cursed Cawmills this fery tay." "Then Malcolm's name is not MacPhail either?" "No, it is not, my lady." "Is he your son's son, or your daughter's son."
"You are talking riddles, Mr MacPhail, and I don't like riddles," said Lady Florimel, with an offence which was not altogether pretended. "Yes surely oh, yes! Call her Tuncan MacPhail, and neither more or less, my laty not yet," he returned, most evasively. "I see you won't trust me," said the girl, and rising quickly, she bade him goodnight, and left the cottage.
"Ja, ja, laty, it ist so; but vhen der heart goes, golt might be t'ought sheap to go wid it." The old lady was half ready to laugh in my face, at hearing this attempt at Germanic English; but the kindness, and delight, and benevolent tenderness of her still fine eyes, made me wish to throw myself in her arms again, and kiss her.
Word Of The Day