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"I'm goin' to town!" Skinny answered shortly. "I'm going up to Eagle Butte and get on a hell of a drunk if I can get hold of any boot-leg whisky Carolyn June and me have bu'sted up on our love-making!" "Going to get drunk, are you?" the Ramblin' Kid queried with a note of scorn in his voice, "an' forget your sorrows?"
Everything did he devote to it, from his soul to his skinny legs and arms. So that, when Bakkus had finished, and leaned back to admire his work, Andrew drew a deep breath, and his eyes shone as if he had received an inspiration from on High. He saw himself as in an apotheosis.
"I came pretty near the eagle, that's right," he said; "and if I'd got a little nearer I'd have choked his life out. That's how much I think of the eagle." Skinny looked as if he did not understand. "Did you see that bird that Tom Slade got? He got the nest and all. It's hanging in the elm tree near the pavilion. There's an oriole in that nest." "Get out!" "Didn't you see it yet?" "Nope."
Skinny pawed around until there wasn't a whole egg left in the box. At the first crunch Leon laughed hilariously. "I knowed you'd lose!" he cackled. "Giff me the money!" "You win, Leon!" the Ramblin' Kid laughed, handing over the wager. "Skinny wasn't as delicate on his feet as he thought he was!" "Thunderation, that's funny!"
George Bent he's in a troop from Washington told me that Mr. Storer went down to the Hudson early in the morning to see how everything was. I guess maybe he did, because Temple Camp would be responsible for Skinny until he was sent away. George said they gave Mr. Storer a doughnut down there, and that it hurt him. I don't know whether they threw it at him or gave it to him to eat.
"You will be summoned immediately, sir," said the magistrate to the prisoner, as he opened his door. In the office, Constant was talking with a skinny little man, who might have been taken, from his dress, for a well-to-do inhabitant of Batignolles, had it not been for the enormous pin in imitation gold which shone in his cravat, and betrayed the detective.
She was her lord's hopeless slave, and at the same time the mere knowledge of her existence was an irritation to him, she being indeed regarded by him as a Sultan might regard the least fortunate of his harem. "Damn her," he cried once to one of his cronies, a certain Lord Eldershaw, "in these days I hate the sight of her, with her skinny throat and face.
"Well?" asked the general, blinking his red eyes. "Are there any sick?" Receiving an answer, the general, a little skinny man, chewed, thought for a moment and said, addressing one of the officers: "One of your drivers of the third cannon has taken off his leg-guard and hung it on the fore part of the cannon, the rascal. Reprimand him."
The Water of Youth possessed merely a virtue more transient than that of wine. The delirium which it created had effervesced away. Yes! they were old again. With a shuddering impulse, that showed her a woman still, the widow clasped her skinny hands before her face, and wished that the coffin lid were over it, since it could no longer be beautiful. "Yes, friends, we are old again," said Dr.
Barry was a tall, skinny man to start with and you would think he hardly carried any fat at all, but he fasted on water for 30 days, receiving a colonic every day, while I did bodywork on his damaged back. He sure was constipated and couldn't deny the evidence that floated by through the sight tube of the colonic machine.
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