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But such would be a foolishness unless you prove yourself doubly foolish. Tell me the secret, and she will never know. A woman's lips must pour out whatever flows in through her ears, being so made. I am a man, and man is differently made. As you well know, my lips suck tight on secrets as a squid sucks to the salty rock.
Seekanauk, a kind of crusty shellfish which is good meat about a foot in breadth, having a crusty tail, many legs like a crab, and her eyes in her back. They are found in shallows of salty waters; and sometimes on the shore.
One day our Lord entered a vigorous protest against the wrong sort of salt, saltless salt, the sort that seemed to be salt, and you used it and depended on it, and then found how unsalty it was, for the thing you depended on it to preserve, had gone bad. The great need is for salty salt. There still seems to be a great lot of this saltless salt in use.
The sky was gloriously blue, without a cloud, and the air tasted salty crisp. Now the Coast Range of California loomed large; its hither bases spotted with the yellow of oats and the green of trees. Ramparts of high cliffs, separated by strips of green and brown low-lands, bordered the ocean.
If a mother occasionally showed signs of friendliness, Rachael accepted the overture pleasantly, but managed to wander next day to some other part of the beach, and so evade the definite beginning of a friendship. The warm sunshine, flavored by the salty sea, soaked into her very bones. Everything about Quaker Bridge was bare, and worn, and clean; nothing was crowded, or hurried, or false.
There was a delicious smell of soft salty freshness, and something besides, a kind of perfume which Candace could not understand or name. "Oh, what is it; what can it be?" she said. "What?" "The smell. It is like flowers. Oh, there it is again!" "Mamma makes believe that it is the Spice Islands," answered Gertrude, indifferently, "or else Madeira.
The day wore on. Arthur, weak with hunger, tried to devour some of the sea-weed. It was too bitter and salty. Leaning over the edge of the rock, he saw a shoal of tiny fishes playing hide-and-seek in the eddies of the stream. He clutched at one of them and devoured it. Never had he tasted a sweeter morsel. He caught another, and another, until his hunger was fully appeased.
The air was clear, the breeze keen and refreshing and the salty smell of the torn seaweed rose to the nostrils of the watchers. To the left were barren hills, dotted with scrub, and farther on the pine groves, with the road from Wellmouth Centre winding out from their midst. All these things Thankful and Emily noticed, but it was on the prospect directly ahead that their interest centered.
Bullyings. Bumpings. Bleedings. Bucketings with cold water. Knockings down. Kneeling on his chest till they broke it in, etc. etc.; after the medieval or monkish method: but that would not do. Bumpsterhausen's blue follicles stuck there still. Then Coaxing. Kissing. Champagne and turtle. Red herrings and soda water. Good advice. Gardening. Croquet. Musical soirees. Aunt Salty. Mild tobacco.
And yet I suppose if I asked you if you’d seen a flying-machine, you’d say you had.” “I have,” Maida answered instantly, “in Paris.” Rosie’s face wrinkled into its most perplexed look. She changed the subject at once. “Well, dulse is a purple stuff—when you see a lot of it together, it looks as if a million toy-balloons had burst. It’s all wrinkled up and tastes salty.”
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