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"Maria is a little too old for you, I grant, but Giulia will do very well; and as you have already come, as Maria says, to be looked upon by them as a brother and protector, there is no saying as to how she may regard you in another two or three years." "The thing is absurd, Matteo," Francis said impatiently. "Do not talk such nonsense any more." Matteo lay back in his seat and whistled.
Forsythe looked at him, and whistled. "Jove!" he exclaimed, "it doesn't strike you as it did Dr. Howe. I told him, and he said, 'Bless my soul, hadn't the man sense enough to call a policeman?" But Mr. Dale had nothing more to say.
Jim shuddered at the thought of the exposure to which, in a shower, his delicate friend would be subjected, but thought that if he could but get him to the wagon, and cover him well before its onset, he could shield him from harm. The town clock was striking ten as he drove up to the stump where he was to meet Benedict's boy. He stopped and whistled.
"What were you going to say?" persisted Charlotte. "Nothing," said Eddy, doggedly "nothing at all. Don't act so fierce, Charlotte. It isn't lady-like. Amy never speaks so awful quick." Charlotte began putting on her hat, which had been left on the sitting-room table. "I am ashamed of you," she whispered again. "I was ashamed of you all tea-time." Eddy whistled in a mannish fashion.
For there was a flash from the side of the Teaser right in front of us, a shell whistled over our heads and crashed in among the trees where the petty firing of the matchlocks was kept up. Then crash! the shell sent shrieking amongst them exploded, and all was still but the steady beating of our oars. "Are you much hurt, sir?" I said to Mr Reardon; but Ching took the inquiry to himself.
"Let's get on with the mower." The North-west breeze was fresher than usual when, one afternoon, Helen rode through a belt of sand-hills on her way to the Charnock farm. Clouds of dust blew about the horse's feet, and now and then fine grit whistled past her head. She had her back to the boisterous wind, but she urged the horse until they got behind a grove of scrub poplars.
The grey weather had brought on the dark prematurely, and in the half-light it seemed that this ravine was blocked by an unscalable nose of rock. Here Old Bill whistled, and there was a reply from above. Round the corner of the nose came Dougal. "Up here," he commanded. "It was Mr. Heritage that fund this road."
As he went about delivering bread he whistled a song. "Take me back to Broadway," he sang after the soubrette in a show that had once come to Coal Creek. Now as he sat on the hillside he talked earnestly while he gesticulated with his hands. "I hate this town," he said. "The men here think they are confoundedly funny. They don't care for anything but making foolish jokes and getting drunk.
"Sometimes, for a run of a hundred tons, the ore will show up better than seventy-five dollars per ton." "Whew!" whistled Reade. "Then no wonder you call this the land of golden promise." "By comparison it would make the mines in the United States look poor, would it not?" laughed the mine owner. "There are very few mines there that show frequent runs of fifty dollars to the ton," Harry observed.
"Wouldn't I like to unfurl a Sparling banner from the top of that pole," exclaimed Phil, gazing up at the top. "How high is that pole?" he asked of a man standing near him. "One hundred feet." Teddy whistled softly. "I wonder if I could get the consent of the town authorities to run some advertising matter up there?" "Couldn't do it, even if you got the permission," answered the man. "Why not?"
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