United States or Bulgaria ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
As Cap'n Sproul trudged home, his little wife's arm tucked snugly in the hook of his own, he observed, soulfully: "Mattermony, Louada Murilla mattermony, it is a blessed state that it does the heart good to see folks git into as ought to git into it. As the poet says um-m-m, well, it's in that book on the settin'-room what-not. I'll read it to ye when we git home."
The horse mistook it for a signal, and it was two minutes before the speed was reduced to mere recklessness. The helmet-strap mark, printed indelibly on King's jaw and cheek by the Indian sun, tightened and grew whiter as the general noted out of the corner of his eye. "Know her?" "Know of her, of course, sir. Everybody does. Never met her to my knowledge." "Um-m-m! Whose fault was that?
Raspberries, blackberries, or blueberries, either kind, will make him perfectly happy. "Um-m-m, my, my, but these are good!" he mumbled in his deep grumbly-rumbly voice, as he sat on his haunches stripping off the berries greedily. His little eyes twinkled with enjoyment, and he didn't mind at all if now and then he got leaves, and some green berries in his mouth with the big ripe berries.
The only sound that could be heard was the scraping of knives and forks against the tin plates, and now and then a grunt of satisfaction, for their work in the open had given the lads appetites of young sharks. "Um-m-m, Jiminy, that was some feed!" grunted Jiminy Gordon as he put down his plate and wiped his mouth on his handkerchief.
What he cried out just now was an entreaty that we would spare his life, and I answered that he need not fear us, for we meant him no harm." "Um-m-m!" commented Dick. "Well, this is the land of marvels, and no mistake!
All day a faint odor of violets clung to him and spread itself subtly about the counting-house, and the fellows noticed it and sniffed. And, oh, how they chaffed him. "Um-m-m. You been rolling in a bed of violets, Ranny?" And "Oo-ooh, what price violets?" And "You might tell us her name, old chappie, if you won't give the address." Till his life was a burden to him.
Finally, he gave vent to a long-drawn 'Um-m-m, in a deep bass. 'Most extraordinary. Really, most extraordinary. Exceedingly. Yes. Um. Very. He took a sip of coffee. 'My dear, said he, suddenly. Mrs Perceval started violently. She had been sketching out in her mind a little dinner, and wondering whether the cook would be equal to it. 'Yes, she said.
But I don't expect you to agree with me!" She pressed Rachel's shoulder. "Um-m-m " she went on quoting Unrest which men miscall delight "When you're my age you'll see that the world is crammed with delightful things. I think young people make such a mistake about that not letting themselves be happy. I sometimes think that happiness is the only thing that counts.
"Um-m-m, um-m-m," mumbled Buster Bear with his mouth full, as he moved along to another patch of berries. And then he gave a little gasp of surprise and delight. Right in front of him was a shiny thing just full of the finest, biggest, bluest berries! There were no leaves or green ones there. Buster blinked his greedy little eyes rapidly and looked again. No, he wasn't dreaming.
"That something was that the major received a letter from your father, kid." "My father?" whispered Garrison. "Um-m-m, the very party. Written from 'Frisco on his death-bed. One of those old-timey, stage-climax death-bed confessions. As old as the mortgage on the farm business. As I remarked before some right-meaning chap says somewhere something about saying nothing but good of the dead.
Word Of The Day