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He nodded. "Troop of Semenoff's bandits in a little two-by-four fight out on the trans-Siberian railroad. Guess they wanted the trainload of rations we were guarding. My captain killed the fellow who stuck me and accounted for four others who tried to finish me." "Captains think a great deal of good first sergeants," she suggested. "And you got a wound-chevron out of it.
Newport heiress be blowed! She's just a nice New York girl, one I've known four or five years; and when it comes to settlin' down we'll most likely look for three rooms on the top floor with a two-by-four bath and a foldin' kitchenette. I'll be satisfied at that, though." It's a great state of mind to be in. I hope I didn't look as foolish as I felt.
Dinky-Dunk has at least the sensibilities to respect my privacy of life. He knows where the deadline is, and doesn't disregard it. But it's terribly hard to be tragic in a two-by-four shack. You miss the dignifying touches. And you haven't much leeway for the bulky swings of grandeur. For one whole day I didn't speak to Dinky-Dunk, didn't even so much as recognize his existence.
The idea! Why, for that German fleet to waste ammunition on that Jim-Crow town and a hand-me-down gunboat was equivalent to John L. Sullivan whittling out a handle on a piece of two-by-four common fir in order to attack a cockroach!" Cappy was so incensed that he growled about the Germans for an hour.
But may he not still be finer than his two-by-four brother whose temperament ran only from the ice-box to family prayers and back to the ice-box?
And the sight of her apparently going to his head, he burst into French: "Tray chick! Tray, tray chick! I’m glad I’ve got on this uniform and not overalls and one suspender." "What’s biting you?" inquired Smith. "Nothing, Stick, nothing. But I believe I’ve seen the prettiest girl in the world right here in this two-by-four town."
"For two years and eight months, Jimmie, life has got to be worth while living to me because I could see the day, even if we you never talked about it, when you would be made over from a flip kid to to the kind of a fellow would want to settle down to making a little two-by-four home for us.
And as I reached the door: "Parson?" "Well?" "Why er come in a bit to-night, will you? That is, if you've got time. And look here: don't you get the notion in your bean I'm just some little old two-by-four guy of a yegg or some poor nut of a dip. I'm not. Why, I've been the whole show and manager besides. Yep, I'm Slippy McGee himself." He paused, to let this sink into my consciousness.
There were lots of things that would have made a good book." The boy's voice took on a note of young ardor. "But the great story was the one he told last. He had stood to win a title of nobility in this two-by-four Kingdom of Galavia, but it had slipped away from him just on the verge of attainment." Harcourt slowly drained his thin Capri wine and set down the goblet.
So far from extending your two-by-four branch if that is what you have in mind he'd be much more likely to counsel its abandonment, if the charter didn't require us to keep it going." Ford found a cigar for the auditor, and lighted one for himself.
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