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Franklin read the letter of Governor Keith over and over. It was a good letter to cheer a father's heart, if it was genuine. Evidently he had some doubts whether the affair was all right. While he was querying about the genuineness of the letter from Governor Keith, Captain Homes arrived in Boston, and first of all called upon his father Franklin. "Benjamin is here," said Mr.
And if I were rich I would; but as it is, I can only give you my sympathy and my prayers." Mr. Smith was thinking of this now. He had wondered several times, since the money came, as to Mrs. Jane's giving. Hence his interest now in what she was about to say. "Why, Jane, what's the matter?" Miss Maggie was querying. "Everything's the matter," snapped Jane.
As the man picked up one of these, and held it up before me in all the helplessness of infancy, looking for all the world like a roly-poly pudding with a short tail to it, I could not help querying in my mind, are you going to be a St. Bernard dog?
"On Christmas Eve we retired to rest somewhat earlier than usual, and, being tired after a long day's motoring, speedily fell into a deep sleep. We awoke simultaneously, both querying the time and agreeing that it must be about five o'clock.
She could talk to herself a favorite amusement, I might almost say a popular amusement, of hers, since these monologues at times would involve numberless characters, chipping in from manifold quarters of a wholesale discussion, and querying and exaggerating, agreeing and controverting, till the dishes she was washing would clash and clang excitedly in the general badinage.
It was out at last the proposal which now, in the actual presence of the great man himself, seemed nothing less than a piece of stupendous presumption. Signor Baroni's eyes roamed inquiringly over the face and figure of the girl before him quite possibly querying as to whether or no she possessed the requisite physique for a singer.
It was true; there were the narrow flats of soil which had once been gardens; there too were the supporting walls, more or less ruinous. Curious eyes now turned toward the seeming mound on the summit, querying whether it might not be the remains of an antique pueblo. At this instant Clara uttered a cry of anxiety, "Where is Pepita?"
"Up there?" say I, looking up apprehensively, and querying in my mind how my estimable friend the mule is ever to get up there with me on his back. "O yes," says my guide, cheerily, "and the road is up through that ravine." The ravine is a charming specimen of a road to be sure, but no matter on we go.
One of them is a very small sand indeed, the solitary negative phrase, "no;" nevertheless, during the evening he inspires the attentive auditors with respect for his linguistic accomplishments by asking me numerous questions, and then, anticipating a negative reply, forestalls it himself by querying, "No?"
And with no more than this established, and nothing definite in plan, either, for the present, I mechanically opened the door of the taxi for her when the driver pulled up and bent a querying face about to ask whether or not we now were opposite Slip K. I noted that he did not at once drive away. Evidently he sat for some moments gazing after us as we disappeared in the gloom of the river-front.
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