United States or Palestine ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"W'y, he must jes' about go broke at it! Lookee! Twicet as much shirt as y' need, and at least five times as much pants!" Certainly there was no denying the statement. However, there was another side to Barber's generosity that Johnnie longed to discuss. Yet once more he decided to invite no argument. "It'll be worse if I had t' wear girl's clothes," was what he returned, philosophically.
They ain't no use tryin' to get by at this part o' the line till you got that village." "Don't talk so bloomin' ignorant! Ain't that just wot they been a-tryin'? Wot we got to do is go 'round 'Ulluch. Tyke 'em in the rear an' from both sides." "W'y don't they get on with it? Wot to blazes are we a-doin' of, givin' 'em a chanct to get dug in again?
He rose and stood swaying, his lips a-tremble, his eyes blinking through a mist, his head bowed. "'E always was uncommon' good to me, Mr. Amber," he said brokenly. "It's a bit 'ard, comin' this w'y. 'Ow 'ow did it " He broke down completely for a time, and staggered away to the wall, there to stand with his head pillowed on his crossed forearms.
"What is a ha'nted house, Uncle Peter?" asked Phil. "W'y. Law, chile, a ha'nted house is a house whar dey's ha'nts!" "And what are ha'nts, Uncle Peter?" "Ha'nts, honey, is sperrits er dead folks, dat comes back an' hangs roun' whar dey use' ter lib." "Do all spirits come back, Uncle Peter?" "No, chile, bress de Lawd, no. Only de bad ones, w'at has be'n so wicked dey can't rest in dey graves.
"I wouldn't have you build too much upon that, Mistress Croale," said Mr. Sclater, glad to follow the talk down another turning, but considerably more afraid of rousing the woman than he had been before. The remark drove her behind the categorical stockade of her religious merits. "I pey my w'y," she said, with modest firmness.
I know what does me good, and I take it, doctor or no doctor." This was said with a you-don't-fool-me expression on his solemn face. "W'y, one doctor'll tell you one thing, and another'll tell you another.
An' at 'ome they're a-s'yin', 'W'y don't they get on with it? W'y don't they smash through? Let some of 'em come out 'ere an' 'ave a try! That's all I got to s'y." I didn't tell Shorty that I had been, not exactly an armchair critic, but at least a barrack-room critic in England. I had wondered why British and French troops had failed to smash through.
"Well, now, tellin' the simple trufe, he ain' much hurt." The doctor turned slowly and cautiously in bed. "Have you seen Honoré Grandissime?" "W'y das funny you ass me dat. I jis now see 'im dis werry minnit." "Where?" "Jis gwine into de house wah dat laydy live w'at 'e runned over dat ah time."
I never spoke a rough word to that girl in my life, and she certainly gimme a nice kiss when she went away. But jest as soon as I write her a love letter, w'y she she W'y hell, Rufe, I wouldn't talk that way to a sheep-herder if he didn't know no better. Now you jest read that" he fumbled in his pocket and slammed a crumpled letter down before his partner "and tell me if I'm wrong!
But wi' that up jumps Bawby, an' comin' efter her, says to me says she, 'Eh, Miss Horn! there's terrible news: Leddy Lossie's deid; she 's been three ooks deid! 'Weel, says I, 'what's sae terrible aboot that? For ye ken I never had ony feelin's, an' I cud see naething sae awfu' aboot a body deem' i' the ord'nar' w'y o natur like.
Word Of The Day