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It is nothing!" Mrs. Albright put an arm around her. "It is only that Mr. Randolph is sick." "O-o-h!" mourned Polly. "It's in the morning paper," added Miss Crilly. "It says, 'seriously ill." "Yet he may not be," interposed Miss Sterling. "The papers seldom get it right." "It is too bad!" Polly sat down.
"Miss Lucy! Miss Lucy!" they shouted; and with a rush they were upon her, embracing, pulling, squeezing, until she dropped into a chair, laughing and breathless. "Have yer come to stay?" queried Maggie anxiously. "For the present," she nodded. A big, squealing, "O-o-h!" of joy rang through the ward, while Polly silently clung to one hand, as if she would never let it go.
This morning she discovered the tray in its usual place, dishes and silver intact, nothing missing. She's looking for the end of the world." "O-o-h!" quavered Alicia, while I could feel my knees knocking together. "O-o-o-h! How very, very singular! And and was that all?" "All! Wasn't that enough?
How difficult it looks. I am frightened! Lucia never saw such a dwefful thing to read!" And it had been those very bars, which Georgie had heard through the open window just now. "Georgie's is much more dwefful!" he said, remembering the double sharp that came in the second bar. "Georgie fwightened too at reading it. O-o-h," and he gave a little scream.
Then Babbie suggested 'Send for Mavis and Merle, they'll help you out. Mother jumped to it like a drowning man at a rope. So I trotted off immediately after breakfast to ask if you'll come to the rescue." "O-o-h! But when is the concert?" "To-night at 7 prompt." "Great Scott! We can't!" "Yes, you can! Any of those impromptu things you give will simply delight people.
Instantly he saw the ridiculousness of it he, the senior astronomer at the Naval Observatory, yelling like that "O-o-h, ye-ay!" came in smothered tones from above. Thornton bounded up the stairs, two, three steps at a time, and pounded on the old door over the porch. "Go away!" came back the voice of Bennie Hooker. "Don't want any lunch!"
"O-o-h, will they?" snivelled the old chap, refusing to be comforted, like a veritable Rachel mourning for her children. "We may possibly get rid of the water below, but the crosshead bearings are working loose, and I'd like to know who's going to give me a new gudgeon pin?"
Abe deemed it the part of friendship to remain silent, but Max misconstrued his reticence. "O-o-h!" he exclaimed. "I see the whole business now. You got an interest in this here pants factory and so you practically kidnap my son. Do you know what I think? I think you are trying to jolly me into letting him stay there because you expect maybe I would invest some money in the business."
Men with blanched faces and trembling hands were pointing towards the big iron barred window that marked the counting room. "O-o-h! It's old Uriah Watkins!" shrieked Blaney. Bruce looked and turned sick at the sight. There, his wrinkled old face pressing against the bars, was the aged bookkeeper of the woolen mills. One hand was extended between the iron grating in frantic appeal.
The old, familiar, battered black-walnut hatrack of his student days leaned drunkenly against the wall Thornton knew one of its back legs was missing and on the imitation marble slab was a telegram addressed to "Professor Benjamin Hooker." And also, instinctively, Thornton lifted up his adult voice and yelled: "O-o-h, ye-ay! Bennie Hooker!" The volume of his own sound startled him.
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