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"But I know he would," cried Bob, who spoke in the most consequential manner. "Your father is rough, but he is very good at bottom." "Why, of course he is," cried Bigley. "Then he wouldn't like us to be cheated out of our treat, so you get the mussels for the bait, and some worms, and let's go." Bigley hesitated.
My supreme effort brought the fish within the hundredth foot length of line then my hands and my back refused any more. "Dan, here's the great chance you've always hankered for!" I said. "Now let's see you pull him right in!" And I passed him the rod and got up. Dan took it with the pleased expression of a child suddenly and wonderfully come into possession of a long-unattainable toy.
Let us, at all hazards, go to the farmhouse. They have assisted us, and may be inclined to do so again; if they refuse, we must push on to Flushing and take our chance." "Well," observed O'Brien, after a pause, "I think we can do no better, so let's be off." We went to the farmhouse, and, as we approached the door, were met by the great mastiff. I started back, O'Brien boldly advanced.
A girl with oval face and faint black down on her upper lip brought them soup, a thick greenish colored soup, that steamed richly into their faces. "If you tell me how I can get out of the army you'll probably save my life," said Andrews seriously. "There are two ways...Oh, but let me tell you later. Let's talk about something worth while...So you write music do you?" Andrews nodded.
"Let's have a race," called Tom. "See who gets his basket full first." "But no skipping for big ones," put in Jack. "You have to pick every ripe one." The boys all started in at the top of the hill, each working two rows at a time. They were so interested in the race that scarcely a word was spoken. The peas were plentiful and ripe too, so that the baskets were filling up quickly. Mrs.
"I say, open the window, Bob, and let's have some fresh air." There was a quick rustling movement close by me, as if some one had risen upon his elbow, and he exclaimed "What d'yer say?" "Open the window, Bob; I'm half-stifled." "So'm I, my lad. Here, what's the matter? What are you doing here?" "No," I said; "what are you doing here in the cabin, Bob?"
Her voice broke, and her hands felt for his again. "Michael, where are you?" she cried. "No, don't touch me; I didn't mean that. Let's face it. For all we know, Hermann might have killed Francis. . . . Whether he did or not, doesn't matter. It might have been. It's like that."
Let's go off game," added Ben Lethbridge, who stood on the other side of him. "I can't help it, Ben." "Yes, you can dry up! Soldiers don't cry, Tom." "Yes, they do, my boy," said Hapgood, who was a little old man, nearly ten years beyond the period of exemption from military duty. "I don't blame Tom for crying, and, in my opinion, he'll fight all the better for it."
"I was thinking about the uniform, been lying here perhaps for months; it's sure to be too damp to put on." "Bah!" cried Aleck. "Dip it right into the big pool and make it salt. It won't hurt you then." "Right," shouted the middy. "Now, then, what next? I believe if we keep on we shall find a fresh way out." "Like enough. Let's try." They tried, but tried in vain.
The result would be about the same in either case reserve units would be disorganized, and some men would have been pulled back from the front line. His dozen-odd UN regulars and Turkish partisans had done their best to simulate a paratroop attack in force. At least, his job was done; now to execute that classic infantry maneuver described as, "Let's get the hell outa here."
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