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If you can't respect an old man with gray hair, why " The rest of his remark caused the girl's eyes to widen and the chattering voices to fall silent. Sam Kirby turned, the dice-box poised in his right hand. "Eh? What's that?" he queried, vaguely. "I'm talking to this pink-faced gold-digger " "Father!" Rouletta exclaimed. "I'm just telling her "
"Did you think in this note to tell him to give me a hoss that only travels one way to onct?" queried Sundown. Corliss laughed. "Yes, I told him. Don't forget you're a citizen and a homesteader. We're depending on you." "You bet! And I'll be there with the bells!" Shoop and Corliss watched Sundown top a distant rise and disappear in a cloud of dust. Then they walked back to the station.
But perhaps," and here she looked alarmed "perhaps you've got the fever?" "I don't think so," I said amusedly, and I stretched out my hand for her to feel. "No, you haven't," she continued, evidently reassured; "your palm is moist and cool, and your pulse is regular. Well, you look spry, anyhow. I shouldn't wonder if you made up your mind to have a dance to-night." "Dance?" I queried.
"Has your friend completed his article on old jokes yet?" queried the Bibliomaniac, with a smile and some apparent irrelevance. "Yes and no," said the Idiot. "He has completed his labors on it by giving it up.
I queried, wondering, as I spoke, if my friend had, after all, changed her mind with respect to the selection of books for her children, and chosen one "How to Make" volume. "It told how in a book," the younger boy said; "a Latin book father studied out of when he was a boy.
"I wonder what I shall make out of her?" queried Mrs. Vanderpool. "Do you know, I believe I could mould her into a lady if she were not black." Mary Cresswell laughed. "With that hair?" "It has artistic possibilities. You should have seen my hair-dresser's face when I told her to do it up. Her face and Zora's were a pantomime for the gods. Yet it was done.
Before the sloop and the steamer had come within hailing distance of each other, the strange craft, not depending on the dying easterly wind, was well along the course, sending back -toward a trail of darker smoke. "Well, what d'you know about that?" queried Billy, easily relapsing into slang when the first few minutes' surprise had worn off.
“Would not Hiram be your dutiful messenger again?” queried the other, vainly watching for escape. “Hiram is worth twenty talents as a helper;”—Lycon gave a hound-like chuckle,—“still he is not Apollo, and there are too many strings on this lyre for him to play them all. Besides, he failed at Salamis.” “He did! Zeus blast his importunity and yours likewise. Where are you taking me?
"Nay, sir, the air is too oppressive for lengthy conversation... I was strolling along these ramparts, thinking of our pleasant encounter at the hour of the Angelus to-morrow... when this light attracted me.... feared I had lost my way and climbed the window to obtain information." "As to your way to the nearest prison cell, Sir Percy?" queried Chauvelin drily.
And John in a great big, long, reddish-gray beard always comes crunching down at full speed across the hermit-crabs to meet us. And always just before he reaches us, he he trips on his beard and falls headlong into the ocean and is drowned." "Why what an awful dream!" deprecated her father. "Awful?" queried little Eve Edgarton. "Ha! It makes me laugh.
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