United States or Sweden ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"He play somew'ere roun'," announced Ikkie, secreting the purloined head-gear and circling away from the forbidden dressing-table. "But where?" I asked, with exceptional sharpness, for my eye had already traversed the most of that shack and had encountered no sign of him. That sloe-eyed breed didn't know just where, and apparently didn't care.
P'r'aps he lose the way in storm an' get hurt; mebbe he die. P'r'aps timber t'ieves get him an' shut him up somew'ere way off hid. Of a truth, Jean cannot tell. But I go hunt for M'sieu' Tom an' fin' out. Then I tell." Jean seemed determined to impress upon his hearers that he would "fin'" Tom Gray. "When can you start north, Jean?" Grace waited breathlessly for the answer.
Den maybe men come down from mountain, or maybe men come in boat, and dey say, 'Who's all you people? Who you b'long to? Den dey say dey don' b'long nobody but demselves. Den, mos' like, de w'ite ones gets killed for dey clothes and dey money. And Cheditafa and me we gets tuck somew'ere to be slaves.
Mac came into the half-ruined dugout where the off-duty machine gunners were making tea over a fire of splintered logs. "Jamie," he said, "take my place at sentry for a few minutes, will you? I've lost my water-bottle. It's 'ere in the dugout somew'ere. I'll be only a minute." I went out to the gun position a few yards away, and immediately afterward the Germans began a bombardment of our line.
"It's no good mak' fight wit' lesser dan two people. You've tol' me dat you are gentleman. Wal, I ain' nobody but trapper an' trader, but I don' spoil de name of no good girl, an' I don' quarrel in presence of lady, so mebbe, affer all, dere's mistak' somew'ere, an' I'm gentleman mese'f 'stead of you." "Why, you aren't really angry, Lieutenant?" mocked Necia.
"Darn my everlastin' hide," he finished lamely, "there was some kissin' somew'ere in the deal, and I mind her cryin' afterwards, but whether it was about that, or Say, Sandy, what was it Ford was lickin' the preacher for? Wasn't it for kissin' the bride?" "It was for marrying him to her," Sandy informed him sententiously. Ford got up and went to the little window and looked out.
And so about three o'clock Mike Breyette surveyed the orderly cabin, the pile of chopped wood, and the venison drying in the sun, and said briskly: "Well, M'sieu Thompson, Ah theenk we go show you hon Lone Moose village now. Dere's one w'ite man Ah don' know 'tall. But der's breed familee call Lachlan, eef she's not move 'way somew'ere. Dat familee she's talk Henglish, and ver' fond of preacher.
Word Of The Day