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"Mmmmm mm. Mmm mmmm mm mm," would go Miss Salmon, following her pince-nez up and down the little bedroom. And Rosalie came to cry, "Oh, never mind. Never mind, for goodness' sake. I know exactly what you're going to say so what is the good of saying it?"
Once again it thrust its moist muzzle between two rails, gave a preliminary, vibrant mmm mmmmm m, and then, with a spasmodic heaving of ribs and of flank, burst into a long-drawn baww aw aw aw, which rose rapidly in a tremulous crescendo and died to a throaty rumbling. Val started nervously, though her eyes were fixed upon the cow and she knew the sound was coming.
And I'd lift off the waxed paper top and peer in, and maybe give the jelly a shake. And then I'd take a spoon and taste, closing my eyes so as to appear to deliberate they'd roll up in an ecstacy anyhow and I'd smack my lips, and say: "Mmmmm!" very thoughtfully, and set the glass back, and write down in my book my judgment, which would invariably be: "First Prize."
Arcot floated into the room after him and watched as Morey made his observations and began to work swiftly with pencil and paper. "What do you make?" Arcot asked. "Mmmmm. Let's see." Morey worked a moment with his slide rule. "We made good time! Twenty-nine light years in ten seconds!
"Colonel Woodburn?" "Mmmmm." "He did seem to rather take to the colonel!" Fulkerson mused aloud. "Of course he did. Woodburn, with his idiotic talk about patriarchal slavery, is the man on horseback to Dryfoos's muddy imagination. He'd listen to him abjectly, and he'd do whatever Woodburn told him to do." Beaton smiled cynically. Fulkerson got up and reached for his coat and hat.
"Colonel Woodburn?" "Mmmmm." "He did seem to rather take to the colonel!" Fulkerson mused aloud. "Of course he did. Woodburn, with his idiotic talk about patriarchal slavery, is the man on horseback to Dryfoos's muddy imagination. He'd listen to him abjectly, and he'd do whatever Woodburn told him to do." Beaton smiled cynically. Fulkerson got up and reached for his coat and hat.
Because the Megabuck Mob is behind you. The Megabuck Moose is going through the cards, and the Megabuck Mole is feeding the answers into the Megabuck Memory Machine, and the Megabuck Moll in maidenly modesty mumbles madly " "Help him," Scotty interrupted. "His lips are stuck together. He can't say anything but mmmmm." But Barby was interested now.
This, indeed, if your words fail you, answers even in public extempore speech, but better where other talking is going on. Thus, "We missed you at the Natural History Society, Ingham." Ingham replies, "I am very gligloglum, that is, that you were mmmmm." By gradually dropping the voice, the interlocutor is compelled to supply the answer. "Mrs. Ingham, I hope your friend Augusta is better."
"I never seen no fightin'. I stayed on the plantation 'til the war was over. I didn' see none o' the fightin'. "I don't 'member nothin' 'bout Jefferson Davis. Lincoln was the man that set us free. He was a big general in the war. "I 'member a song we sung, then. It went kinda like this: 'Free at las', Free at las', Thank God Almighty I's free at las'. Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm.
"Colonel Woodburn?" "Mmmmm." "He did seem to rather take to the colonel!" Fulkerson mused aloud. "Of course he did. Woodburn, with his idiotic talk about patriarchal slavery, is the man on horseback to Dryfoos's muddy imagination. He'd listen to him abjectly, and he'd do whatever Woodburn told him to do." Beaton smiled cynically. Fulkerson got up and reached for his coat and hat.
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