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Here Booth made a full stop, smiled, and then said he was going to mention so ridiculous a distress, that he could scarce think of it without laughing. What this was the reader shall know in the next chapter. The story of Booth continued. More surprising adventures. From what trifles, dear Miss Matthews," cried Booth, "may some of our greatest distresses arise!
"What are you going to do on leave?" queried the tall sandy-haired Midshipman popularly known as "Wonk." "Do?" echoed Matthews. "Do?" He allowed his imagination full rein for a moment. "Well," he said, "by way of a start I shall make my soldier brother take me to dinner somewhere where there's a band and fairies in low-necked dresses with diamond ta-rarras on their heads."
I reckon it looks foolish, me a talkin' this way. Maybe it's because I'm gettin' old, but anyhow I wanted you to know." The shepherd raised his head and his face was aglow with a glad triumphant light, while his deep voice was full of meaning as he said gently, "It has been more to me, too, than you think, Mr. Matthews.
The keeper, who, after the liberality of Miss Matthews, and on seeing a purse of guineas in her hand, had conceived a great opinion of her wealth, no sooner heard that the sum which he had in intention intirely confiscated for his own use was attempted to be broke in upon, thought it high time to be upon his guard. "To be sure," cries he, "Mr.
The capitalist continued, "I have tried several times to persuade your father to open up that hill of his. He has a fortune in that mountain, sir, a fortune! Are you interested in mining, Mr. Matthews?" "Not directly, sir." "No? Well, if your people should ever decide to develop that property come to me; I know what it is. We would be glad to talk it over with you.
The storekeeper's voice was soft, confidential, ingratiating. "Mr. Fraser and I have come to say that Mr. Matthews is wanted to serve as interpreter for Colonel Cummings." "Interpreter?" queried Matthews. A bullet-head made itself visible from behind a barrel. "Don't let him bluff y', Nick," called a voice. The other looked round. "Shut y' fly-trap, Babe," he commanded.
When the sexton rings the bell nowadays, on a Sunday morning, it seems to have lost some of its old-time militant strength, something of its hope and courage; but it still rings, and although the Davids and Solomons, the Matthews, Marks, and Pauls of former congregations have left few descendants to perpetuate their labours, it will go on ringing as long as there is a Tabitha, a Dorcas, a Lois, or a Eunice left in the community.
By this letter, which was full of bitterness and upbraiding, he discovered that James was his rival with that lady, and was, indeed, the identical person who had sent the hundred-pound note to Miss Matthews, when in the prison.
"These young ladies will remain after school is dismissed," she said, in her authoritative voice: "Bessy Bell Rose Clymer Gail Matthews Helen Tremaine Ruth Winthrop.... Also any other girls who are honest enough to admit knowledge of the notes found in Rose Clymer's desk." The hush that fell over the schoolroom was broken by the gong in the main hall, sounding throughout the building.
If you had only let me go!" "Yes, yes, my dear boy," answered the other, soothingly. "But please remember that you couldn't have talked with them. The conference would have been carried on through Mr. Matthews just the same." There was a silence, broken only by Jamieson's weeping. "Is that all?" asked Colonel Cummings, at last, addressing himself to the interpreter. "Yes, sir."
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