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Each village on all the line turned out its full population to cheer us ecstatically. A bitter month had passed, and now salvation had come. It is seldom in a lifetime one is present at a perfect piece of irony like that of those shouting Flemish peasants. As Antwerp was falling, a letter was given to me by a friend. It was written by Aloysius Coen of the artillery, Fort St.
On the ground in heaps lay men and horses, dead and dying the vanquished were crying for mercy, the victors were shouting for vengeance. The country for miles round was alive with fugitives and their pursuers. Women, children, and old men, as well as soldiers, joined in that panic flight; and shrieks, and shouts, and groans told only too plainly of the slaughter and terror of the pursuit.
"There!" Fatty cried, as they came in sight of the bright, round thing. "There it is just as I told you!" And they all set up a great shouting. All but Mrs. Coon. She wasn't quite sure, even yet, that Fatty had really found the moon. And she walked close to the shining thing and peered at it. But not too close! Mrs. Coon didn't go too near it. And she told her children quite sternly to stand back.
Her house is in the brier thicket; she climbs to the roof and stands there all day waving her hands, and shouting out in wood-talk, 'There are cocoanuts in my cellar. "Now go and find her, maybe she will feed you. She always feeds us poor folks," and the witch slammed the door. The boy was puzzled. As he stood in doubt, there was a loud noise, and his friends arrived.
One morning, however, we were awakened at early daybreak by the shouting and singing of a company of men, carrying a great black tree to the Church, with this same Chief dancing before them, leading the singing, and beating time with the flourish of his tomahawk.
It was after the shouting had died away in a confused clatter of hoofs, and the pistol cracklings were coming only at intervals and from an increasing distance, that the corridor door opened and the night despatcher's off-trick man came in with a message for Hallock.
The whole thing was so sudden that Captain Brisac was for a single instant confused; he rallied the next, however, and shouting "Boarders, repel boarders!" put himself at the head of our men. The French captain led on his boarding party with magnificent dash and resolution, and for the first minute our men were driven irresistibly back.
He waved his hand toward an irruption of laughing, shouting figures from the north wing of the college. The white man under the tree had been quietly observant of the two wayfarers, and he now rose to his feet, and came over to the rail fence against which they leaned. "Ha, Jean Hugon!" he said pleasantly, touching with his thin white hand the brown one of the trader.
It seemed as though the tempest had seized the ends of the rope, and was dealing terrible blows with them upon her shoulders, her back, and her feet. Meanwhile the little wearer of the wreath was lying on a black cloud opposite to her at Lienhard's feet. She still held the sheet in her hand, and was shouting to the angry elements the magic formulas which it contained.
She came home late every night, very drunk, and shouting loud snatches of songs, which wakened up the inmates of the lower stories, and drew upon her a storm of oaths. But she continued always good-natured and kind to Meg, and insisted upon having the daily charge of Robin and the baby, though Meg left them in her care with a very troubled and anxious spirit.
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