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"O-oh! ow!" screamed little Phronsie, "see him, Polly! just see him!" A man with an organ was standing in the middle of the road playing away with all his might, and at the end of a long rope was a lively little monkey in a bright red coat and a smart cocked hat. The little creature pulled off his hat, and with one long jump coming on the fence, he made Phronsie a most magnificent bow.
"I am the only one; there are no others." "O-oh!" sighed the Jewess, and turned her eyes upward. "Poor mamma, poor mamma! How she will weep and miss you! We are going to send our Nahum to school in a year. O-oh!" "Ah, Nahum, Nahum!" sighed Moisey Moisevitch, and the skin of his pale face twitched nervously. "And he is so delicate."
Margie, that was the expression I've been trying to remember all afternoon. You used it this morning. Where did you get such a poetic nickname for a thunder O-oh!" For a second, noon had returned to the two women. From their feet two long streaks of black shadow darted back into the room, and vanished.
"You've got me, ma'am Jenny. I give in, I throw up the fight. That irrigation project now Chuckie's brother can have anything of mine he asks for. Only there's one thing you've got to make that yearling say 'Granddad' when he talks to me." "O-oh!" cooed Genevieve. "To think you feel that way towards him! Of course he shall say it. And I Will you not allow me to make it 'Daddy'?"
Instantly Vada was on her knees, crawling from under the table, followed closely by her faithful shadow. She came cautiously up to Sunny's side and stood up. "M'lasses?" she inquired, and her eyes spoke volumes. "O-oh!" muttered Jamie, scrambling to his feet beside her holding up one fat hand. Sunny, without replying, allowed them to dip their fingers into the pot and taste the molasses.
It's Mamma and me he doesn't say much to, unless we speak to him first." "You see he's horribly afraid of being thought a fortune-hunter. He's almost morbidly sensitive in that way." "O-oh, I see," I echoed. "Is that the reason he's so stand-off with us because he knows we're rich?" "Yes.
'Not humanly speakin'' was her words, though I don't quite know what she meant." "But," objected Fancy, "you might want to start higher, in another book. We can't expect to live all our lives on this one: and there oughtn't to be any come-down." Palmerston smiled and waved his manuscript with an air of mastery. He had thought of this. "There's Royalty!" "O-oh!" Fancy caught her breath.
Oh, these stained knives! John, did she really cry?" "Nearly, I did." "Not she!" "I did, Helen. I thought the dark would come, and you'd be lost perhaps, out on the moor O-oh!" "I think I'd like it wrapped up in the night." "But the noises would send you mad. Your eyes are all red. Have you been crying too?" "It's the wind. Here's the rain coming. And where's my hair?"
"O-oh!" the women cried. They were partially shocked, as they were intended to be, but partially their curiosity was excited, and a feeling that they would like to see all these gaieties and fine dresses moved their minds. The primitive intelligence always feel certain that "racketing" and orgies that go on all night, must be at least guiltily delightful, exciting, and amusing, if nothing else.
"Now shut your eyes, Popsy, and don't look until I get you into your chair," said Ruth as they reached the dining-room door. Her father obediently shut his eyes, and Ruth led him to his place at the table. Then she slipped around to her own chair, and clapping her hands said triumphantly, "Now look." "Oh o-oh!" gasped her father, almost before he had opened his eyes. "This is truly superb.
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