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"Ah ain't gwine see no po' sailor man done to death and me not say 'What foh!" "You fool! You black fool!" Chips shrieked, shaking his fist, "Stand by and share up! Stand by and share up!" Neddie Benson jumped over beside the cook. "Me too!" he called shrilly. "Bad luck or good luck, old Bill he done his best and was fair murdered." Poor Bill!
The Kid had drawn his twin .45s and laid them on the table so quickly and so quietly that none of them had seen his arms move. "Now, I hope," murmured The Kid, "that yo' rather listen to me talk than to those. I've only a few words to say. Boys, I was surprised. I didn't think yo' would be the kind to leave a po' woman like Mrs. Thomas in the lurch.
Dey take all de money 'way from de Jews an' raise de price ob cawn an' hay till de po' Jews can't live. Rockefeller-Morgan Faro, de king, say dey can't go, but Moses done got de Lawd on his side, an' he crossed de Red Sea in submarines, so Faro got drowned wid all his host. De mummy ob dat same Faro is still alive in de big museums ob de world, but whar de host is no man can tell.
Have you not heard that the cohorts at Brundisium are composed of invalids? The forces which you now behold, have been recruited by levies lately made in Hither Spain, and the greater part from the colonies beyond the Po; moreover, the flower of the forces perished in the two engagements at Dyrrachium."
In 76 A. D. there were living in that part of Italy which lies between the Apennines and the Po 124 persons who had attained the age of one hundred and upward. There were 54 of one hundred; 57 of one hundred and ten; 2 of one hundred and twenty-five; 4 of one hundred and thirty; 4 of from one hundred and thirty-five to one hundred and thirty-seven, and 3 of one hundred and forty.
To hear in the pitch darkness the mysterious voices of po, the tenebræ of the Tahitian gods; the boom of the cascade in the abyss; the deep bass of the river in the rocky chute; the sigh of the wind in the trees; the murmur of the stream near by; the fantasia and dirge of the lofty night in the tropics. What a setting for her telling some old legend or fairy-tale of Tahiti!
On the sixteenth day after leaving Fernando Po they entered the Gaboon. On the right hand bank were the fort and dwellings of the French. A little farther up stood the English factories; and upon a green hill behind, the church, school, and houses of an American mission. On the left bank was the wattle town of King William, the sable monarch of the Gaboon. Mr.
A portion of it is compared to the river Po, and he traces its course mile by mile up to the "delta" at its place of disemboguement into the Mare Vaporum.
"When He come arter me I ain' never let de ease er my limbs stan' in de way. Ef you can't do a little shoutin' on de ea'th, you're gwineter have er po' sho' ter keep de Lawd f'om overlookin' you at Kingdom Come." The strange little woman faced them proudly. "My husband, Silas, got religion in de night time," she said, "an' he bruck clean thoo de slats. De bed ain't helt stiddy sence."
He never told me just how things had stood between French Eva and him, but I am sure that he believed Ching Po at once, and that, from the moment Ching Po spoke, it was all over. It was no longer even real to him, so surely had his inborn prejudice worked. Stires was no Pierre Loti. In decency we had to mention her.
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