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"But did you not like the first tune I sang? 'Old Hundred' was selected in deference to the wishes of the meeting." "No, I did not like it. It was not suitable to the place and words. Though I never heard it before, its somewhat slow movement did not prevent it from smacking of something very foreign to a prayer- meeting." "A most happy and inspired expression.

I hid myself behind the trees whose leafage concealed the wall. M. Charnot was evidently pleased with the view before him, and turned from side to side, gently smacking his lips like an epicure.

"A very pretty problem, gentlemen," the Tenant said, smacking his lips over his brandy, "for all that it may be a deadly serious one for us. There is, of course, nothing we can do tonight. But, tomorrow, we have promised to help our visitors, whoever they may be, in searching for this crypt in the city. "Murray, you were to be in charge of the detail that was to accompany them.

He repeated the words to a sort of chanting air, and all the others repeated them after him with immense unction and smacking of lips. Kitty said afterwards that the dirge made her feel nearly as bloodthirsty as a Red Indian, and Boris openly wished that he could live in a wigwam and wear scalps.

Bien coupe, mal cousu; such is the most favourable verdict I can pass on this voluminous effusion of a spirit smacking rather of the schools than of the field. The first six lines or so might pass muster as the early handiwork of Shakespeare; the rest has as little of his manner as his matter, his metre as his style. The poet can hardly be said to rise again after this calamitous collapse.

"Well, Murdie, and Bob Fraser, and Curly Ross, and Don, and and Thomas, there," added Hughie, fearing to hurt Thomas' feelings by leaving him out. "Ay," said the old man, shutting his lips tight on his pipestem and puffing with a smacking noise, "let me catch Thomas at that!" "And I would help, too," said Hughie, valiantly, fearing he had exposed his friend, and wishing to share his danger.

His body is not set upon nice pins, to be turning and flexible for every motion, but his scrape is homely and his nod worse. He cannot kiss his hand and cry, madam, nor talk idle enough to bear her company. His smacking of a gentlewoman is somewhat too savoury, and he mistakes her nose for her lips. A very woodcock would puzzle him in carving, and he wants the logick of a capon.

God help the man with a fancy for her! Charming visions were woven on his memory from the fading skeins of the past a ride in a dilapidated, public fiacre after a masked ball in Paris ... at dawn. Confetti tangled in coppery hair, a wilful mouth, fragrantly painted, and phantomlike swans on a black lake. His silk hat had been telescoped in the process of smacking a Frenchman's eye.

I trusted that I might be able to replenish my scanty stock of provisions, but I knew, that, had I not given them with a good grace, my guests would probably have taken them by force. I had begun to serve the banquet, at which the red-skins were smacking their lips, and they were casting approving and kindly glances at me, when I remembered my cask of brandy.

"We can make it nice, and good, and fine," says Mr. Jinks, smacking his lips over the rum, as if he was imbibing liquid vengeance, and was pleased with the flavor. "No!" cries Ralph again. "Yes!" says Mr. Jinks. "Revenge, nice and good?" "Supreme!" "How?" "Listen!" "Stop a moment, my dear fellow," said Ralph; "don't be hasty."