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And now the Captain slid off stealthily; and smiling comically, and hitching up his great jack-boots, and moving forward with a jerking tiptoe step, he, just as she was trilling the last o-o-o of the last no in the above poem of Tom D'Urfey, came up to her, and touching her lightly on the waist, said, "My dear, your very humble servant." Mrs. As it was, she only shook all over, and said,
"A fish? A-a! O-o-o! Did she do that once, or a number of times?" "Only once." "And art thou certain, lord, that she outlined a fish? O-o?" "Yes," answered Vinicius, with roused curiosity. "Dost thou divine what that means?" "Do I divine!" exclaimed Chilo. And bowing in sign of farewell, he added: "May Fortune scatter on you both equally all gifts, worthy lords!"
"O-o-o, I fordot," said Robbie, horrified at his failure to keep his promise. "Never mind. That's a lesson you will have to learn many times, how to keep those little lips shut. And the pie will be just as good." "Thank you, mother," said Hughie. "But I don't want your pie." "My pie!" said the mother. "Pie isn't good for old women." "Old women!" said Hughie, indignantly.
He knew, as did other unfortunate people, that the great man was at his worst when he said 'O-o-o'. In moments of comparative calm he said 'Er'. 'I can't put up with it, you know, Mr Perceval. It's too much. A great deal too much. 'You refer to ? suggested the Head, with a patience that did him credit. 'This eternal trespassing and tramping in and out of my grounds all day.
Without a break the Texan picked up the refrain, improvising words to fit the occasion: "The sheriff's name, it's old Sam Moore, He's standin' down by the jail-house door With seventeen knives an' a gatlin' gun, But you bet your boots we'll make him run Ah wi yi yippie i o-o-o-!" With whoops of approbation and a deafening chorus of yowls and catcalls, the cowpunchers crowded through the door.
"I I s-a-w!" he muttered; "I s-s-s-ing!" And expired, with his last breath gasping good grammar. Instantly Thomas leaped the prostrate figure and strode to the Gate. He was breathing hard, but looking about him boldly. "Now I come through," he boasted. "O-o-o!" It was Gwendolyn's cry. "Officer, don't let him! Don't!"
Piano and song ceased immediately; Mirah, who had been playing the accompaniment, involuntarily started up and turned round, the crackling sound, after the occasional trick of sounds, having seemed to her something thunderous; and Mab said "O-o-o, Hans! why do you bring a more horrible noise than my singing?" "What on earth is the wonderful news?" said Mrs.
Wot is to be done?" A very small monkey, with an uncommonly wrinkled and melancholy cast of visage, which chanced to be seated on a branch hard by, peering down at the lost mariner, replied "O! o-o-o, O! o-o!" as much as to say, "Ah, my boy, that's just the question."
"For the love of soup, let's have it," says I. "What's gone wrong now?" "O-o-o la la!" says Leon. "O-o-o la la!" "That's right, sing it if you can't say it," says I. "Parbleu! Nom de Dieu! Les dindons!" he gasps. "Ah, can the ding-dong stuff, Leon," says I, "and let's hear the English of it." "The the turkeys!" he pants out. And that did get a groan out of me.
I can give you nothing else till you have taken this." "Then go!" she snapped out. But the "o-o-o" was prolonged into a wail as a particularly pernicious jab in the midst of her duodenum-"a providential thrust," Dr. Bond said doubled her up, if rotundity can be said to double. The Doctor was obdurate. Colic was trumps and won!
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