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"Eat then, and drink then, for goodness' sake," cried Don impatiently. "Thankye, sir," said Jem; and he poured out a cup of steaming coffee, sipped it, sipped again, took three or four mouthfuls of bread and butter, and then drained the cup. "Mas' Don!" he cried, "it's lovely. Do have a cup. Make you see clear."
Say, Mas' Don, it's werry awkward; you can't say anything to that big savage without him shouting `pakeha. How shall we ask for our clothes?" "Wait," said Don. "We've got to think about getting further away." "Think they'll send to look for us, Mas' Don?" "I should say they would." "Well, somehow," said Jem, "I seem to fancy they'll think we're drowned, and never send at all.
In signing his name he had written 'el mas inclito', wishing to say your most humble.
"Little Mas' Robert," came in a soft voice at my elbow as I stood tottering, "is you got a picture of yo' mudder you could show Cato some day when the General ain't lookin'. 'Fore I dies I wants to set my eyes on de woman dat drawed little Mas' Henry away from us all. Dey is such a thing in dis hard old world as love what you goes 'crost many waters' to git, and he shorely got it."
"And the water's boiling hot," added Don. "You can see it bubbling just at this end." "Think o' that now!" said Jem. "I say, what a big fire there must be somewhere down b'low. Strikes me, Mas' Don, that when I makes my fortun' and buys an estate I sha'n't settle here." "No, Jem. `There's no place like home." "Well, home's where you settle, arn't it? But this won't do for me.
Tom sailed along pretty well for three lines; and Maggie was beginning to forget her office of prompter in speculating as to what mas could mean, which came twice over, when he stuck fast at Sunt etiam volucrum. "Don't tell me, Maggie; Sunt etiam volucrum Sunt etiam volucrum ut ostrea, cetus " "No," said Maggie, opening her mouth and shaking her head.
"A Dios, a Dios, hasta mas ver, Sibila, a Dios!" was loudly shouted, and soon most of the guests had left the tent. Those who remained behind were scattered among the different tables. Ulrich sat at one alone with Hans Eitelfritz. The lansquenet had declined Zorrillo's invitation to join him; an old friend from Madrid was present, with whom he wished to talk over happier days.
About 1490, Jouveneaux, fired with enthusiasm by the success of du Mas' reforms at Chezal Benoît, determined to quit his professor's chair at Paris and take upon him the vows and the life of a monk under du Mas' rule; and subsequently he was the means of bringing into the Congregation the Abbey of St.
"Where are you hurt, Jem?" "Shoulder," said that worthy, laconically. "Again?" "No; not again." "But I mean when the gun went off." "In my head, Mas' Don." "Ah! We might stop now. Let me bind it up for you." "No, no; it don't bleed," replied Jem, gruffly. "I mean hurt inside my head, 'cause I could be such a stoopid as to let this here gun fall." "Then you are not wounded?"
'Spect he'd like a keep-sake, too, said Dingee, laying down another card. 'Mas' May put his away mighty safe. If ever his little mistress was near being furious, I think it was then. Eyes and cheeks were in a flame. 'I left nothing uncertain last night! she said, turning upon him. 'Major Seaton knows that, if he will take the trouble to remember.
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