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"Ha! too well eddicated, I suppose. Well, 'tis a queer kettle o' fish, but so's life, yet, though heaviness endure for a night, j'y cometh in the morning, and mind, I'm your friend if you're so minded. And now, what I says is let's to sleep, for I must be early abroad."
"T'anks," said the Flopper. "Say, Helena, wot's de new lay de Doc has got up his sleeve?" Helena made no answer. "Is yer grouch painin' you so's yer tongue's hurt?" inquired the Flopper solicitously. Still no answer. "Well, go to the devil!" said the Flopper politely.
I found one of your combs, and saw where you'd brushed away the dirt so's not to spoil your dress. Now I'd like to know how much you know, and whom you've told it to?" "What's the use?" said Rose with sudden desperation. "You've got me nobody'll ever know from me what I've heard to-night. You're going to kill me." "I doubt it," said Blizzard. "Now look up and tell me all about everything."
Course he hove out some of his cheap talk, but it didn't amount to nothin'. Asked if I wan't goin' to put up a sign sayin' when I'd be back, so's to ease the customers' minds. 'I don't know when I'll be back, I says. 'All right, says he, 'put that on the sign. That'll ease 'em still more. Just cheap talk 'twas. He thinks he's funny, but I don't pay no attention to him."
SILAS: Oh, he's a fine-looking boy, mother. And think of what he knows! SMITH: Well, well quite a trip. Well, Mr Morton, I hope this is not a bad time for me to present a little matter to you? Like to uncheck him so's he can geta a bit o'grass. SMITH: Why yes. I suppose he would like that. Wouldn't you, old boy? SMITH: Your son is fond of animals.
She and Frank had never been invited to any semi-religious festival by this aunt, owing to Frank's atheistic tendencies. But the haughty and religious dame had heard rumors and was curious. "I'll go for your sake, Jennie. But she'll be disappointed. Maybe I'd better shave my mustache so's to let her see some change in me."
But he used to step out quietly and snake baskets of crackers outen other boxes, so's the other customers, as alvays conducted themselves like perfick gen'lemen, vas all the time a singing out, "Waiter! plate of crackers."
"I ain't in on writin' the letter," Curly decided; "I'll carry it, but my writin' is too sot, and so's my thinker." "Well, I ain't used my own thinker in this particular way for about twenty years," said Tom Osby, "although I did co'te two of my wives by perlite correspondence, something like this; and I couldn't see but what them wives lasted as good as any."
"W want the Speaker?" he inquired. Mr. Crewe acknowledged that he did. "Ed only sleeps there," said Mr. Braden. "Guess you'll find him in the Railroad-Room." "Railroad Room?" "Hilary Vane's, Number Seven." Mr. Braden took hold of the lapel of his fellow-townsman's coat. "Callated you didn't know it all," he said; "that's the reason I come down so's to help you some." Mr.
"Nonsense! It's nothing but a myth a legend," said Brace. "I think not," said Briscoe gravely. "I believe it's as much a fact as the golden cities of the Mexicans and Peruvians that the Spaniards proved to be no myths." "No: that was true enough," replied Brace thoughtfully. "So's this. I've dreamed about it for years, and I mean to find it yet." "Why, you surprise me.
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