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Colonel Boucher had to take his bull-dogs for a run and walk off the excitement of the party; Piggy and Goosie explained to their mother that nobody was going to sing, and by silvery laughter tried to drown her just indignation, and presently Lucia had the agony of seeing Mrs Quantock seated on one of the thrones, that had been designed for much worthier ends, and Peppino sitting in the other, while a few guests drifted about the lawn with all the purposelessness of autumn leaves.
I grant you it's 'ard, But what's a man to do? If I'd a-stayed at the Depot, you wouldn't think anything of me." "Like as not, but I'd 'ave you with me, Piggy. An' all the thinkin' in the world isn't like kissin'." "An' all the kissin' in the world isn't like 'avin' a medal to wear on the front o' your coat." "You won't get no medal." "Oh, yus, I shall though.
"Which we will," said Lew, looking tenderly at the ragged and ill- made housewife that Cris had given him, with a lock of her hair worked into a sprawling "L" upon the cover. "It was the best I could," she sobbed. "I wouldn't let mother nor the Sergeant's tailor 'elp me. Keep it always, Piggy, an' remember I love you true."
The pancake thought there might be something in that, and so they kept company. But when they had gone a while, they came to a brook. As for Piggy, he was so fat he could swim across. It was nothing for him, but the poor pancake could not get over. "Seat yourself on my snout," said the pig, "and I'll carry you over." So the pancake did that.
"Alderman Barry? The boss?" "'Piggy' does somehow sound more appropriate than 'Honorable'," Dick said meditatively. "And is he one of the people you like?" questioned Ellery with unfeigned surprise. "For business purposes, yes. If I'm going to get into politics some day, it becomes me to cultivate local statesmen, doesn't it?
Touraine appears to me like a pate de foie gras, in which one plunges up to the chin; and its wine is delicious. Instead of intoxicating, it makes you piggy and happy. . . . Just fancy, I have been on the most poetic trip possible in France from here to the heart of Brittany by water, passing between the most ravishing scenery in the world.
She had no hammer at hand; so she seized a large stone that lay near by and pounded at the board till the twice-tinkling bell recalled her to the house, and as soon as she had made confession to the census-taker she went back, alas, too late! Piggy had redoubled his efforts, another board had yielded, and he was free! What a thing freedom is! how objectionable in practice, how splendid in theory!
I wonder what is in it. Good-bye. I will send him up to you." Graham came up in a few moments with the basket on his arm. "Guess what I have here, Phil." "How can I?" "Oh yes, you can just guess." "Something to eat?" "No, little piggy; or rather yes, if you choose." "Well, chickens or eggs?" "No, neither." "Fruit?" "Guess again." "Medicine for some of your father's sick people?" "No." "Flowers?
So she said, "Ox! ox! drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile, and I shan't get home to-night." But the ox would not. She went a little farther, and she met a butcher.
Quail ordered dinner at eight a light meal, for his wife had gone to the Engadine some weeks before. At nine precisely he was in his carriage with his coachman on the box to drive his horses, his man Mole also, and Piggy the little dog in with him.
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