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He found himself gazing with some amazement into the grinning homely face of "Iron Man" McCorquodale, the ex-pugilist with whom he had exchanged sparring compliments the night of the fog. "McCorquodale! How'd you get here?" "On the too-too," responded the Iron Man, rapidly recovering both breath and good humor. "Don't get fresh, McCorquodale.
So the Doctor lifted the owl up and held him close to the lock of the door. After a moment Too-Too said, "Now he's rubbing his face with his left hand. It is a small hand and a small face. It MIGHT be a woman No. Now he pushes his hair back off his forehead It's a man all right." "Women sometimes do that," said the Doctor. "True," said the owl.
I remember one adventurous little fellow—Too-Too was the rascal’s name—who had built himself a sort of aërial baby-house in the picturesque tuft of a tree adjoining Marheyo’s habitation.
"Oh! how I wish I could!" sighed poor Phebe. "I made pa give me a new dress for it," continued Bell, leaning forward to pick off the biggest grapes from a bunch on the table. "I mean to look just too-too. Mr. De Forest is going to row me up. I don't know exactly how I made him ask me, but I did.
A little girl of about three called to her mother, "Too-too sick, too-too sick," and when finally the train started on again, the child was overjoyed that "too-too" was well again. Sully, op. cit., p. 164. We come now to a unique period in the history of the development of the imagination its golden age.
We'll have pork-chops and roast duck for supper to-night. And before I let you go home, you must make your friends send me a trunk-full of gold." Poor Gub-Gub began to weep; and Dab-Dab made ready to fly to save her life. But the owl, Too-Too, whispered to the Doctor, "Keep him talking, Doctor. Be pleasant to him.
At th' bottom wus th' creek, howlin' day an' night! Lonesome! Gee! No one t' talk to. Of course, th' men. Had some with me always. They didn't talk. It's too-too quiet t' talk much. They played cards. Curious, but I never played cards. Don't think I'd find it amusin'. No, I worked. Came down here once in six months or three months. Had t' come grub-staked th' men, you know.
Wetmore were to criticise that picture he'd draw a circle round it in the air, and look at it through that, and tilt his head first on one side and then on the other, and then look at you, as if you were a figure in it, and then collapse awhile, and moan a little and gasp, 'Isn't your young lady a little too-too and then he'd try to get the word out of you, and groan and suffer some more; and you'd say, 'She is, rather, and that would give him courage, and he'd say, 'I don't mean that she's so very 'Of course not. 'You understand? 'Perfectly.
"But when they do, their long hair makes quite a different sound.... Sh! Make that fidgety pig keep still. Now all hold your breath a moment so I can listen well. This is very difficult, what I'm doing now and the pesky door is so thick! Sh! Everybody quite still shut your eyes and don't breathe." Too-Too leaned down and listened again very hard and long.
"Well," said Acton, listening a moment to the stroke of the engine, and the roar of the wind, "I think we may say it is." "Blizzard seems nearer the word, old man. The flakes come at you like snowballs." "Shan't be sorry when we tread your ancestral halls. This weather is too-too for comfort. And don't we crawl!" "We're rising," said Acton, "and it is uphill work. Hear the old tank groaning?"
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