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He took some personal satisfaction out of his disappointment by depriving Ho Koong Yay of all his offices, and mulcting him in five years of his pay as an imperial duke. The cause of his disgrace was expressly stated to be the mismanagement of the relations with the English embassador and the suppression of material facts from the emperor's knowledge.
"Let's hear you do it, then." "Yessir!" the other partner shouted. "Let's just hear you DO it!" "I said I could if I wanted to," responded Roderick. "I didn't say I WOULD." "Yay! Knows he can't!" sneered Sam. "I can, too, if I try." "Well, let's hear you try!"
Looking Good looked good around the first turn. "Yay, yay, yay!" the girl yelled, jumping up and down as the desire of her heart moved forward. "I'm winning! I'm winning!" "Patience, my child," said her father. "In horse racing, unlike in life, we look only at the finish, not at the progress." "I sure hope that's true," the boy said, "because Sure Win is running fifth."
The firmness of Lord Amherst was unexpected and misunderstood. Ho Koong Yay repeated his invitation several times, and even resorted to entreaty; but when the Chinese found that nothing was to be gained they changed their tone, and the infuriated Kiaking ordered that the embassador and his suite should not be allowed to remain at Pekin, and that they should be sent back to the coast at once.
A solum female, lookin sumwhat like a last year's beanpole stuck into a long meal bag, cum in axed me was I athurst and did I hunger? to which I urbanely anserd "a few." She went orf and I endeverd to open a conversashun with the old man. "Elder, I spect?" sed I. "Yay," he said. "Helth's good, I reckon?" "Yay."
Here he suffered for the unusual term of an hour, with many jocular and cunning eyes constantly upon him; and, when he was released at noon, horrid shouts and shrieks pursued him every step of his homeward way. For his laughter-loving little schoolmates spared him not neither boy nor girl. "Yay, Penrod!" they shouted. "How's your beautiful hair?" And, "Hi, Penrod!
YAY!" shouted the taunting Sam Williams, whose every word and sound had now become almost unbearable to Master Bitts. Sam was usually so good-natured that the only explanation of his conduct must lie in the fact that Roddy constitutionally got on his nerves. "He KNOWS he can't prove it! He's a goner, and now we can begin callin' him anything we can think of! I choose to call him one first, Penrod.
These phenomena could be intensified in picturesqueness, the boys discovered, by rocking the cage a little, tapping it with a hammer, or raking the bars with a stick. Altogether, Gipsy was having a lively afternoon. There came a vigorous rapping on the alley door of the stable, and Verman was admitted. "Yay, Verman!" cried Sam Williams. "Come and look at our good ole panther!"
"He does not!" Master Bitts returned angrily. "He doesn't do anything. He's just got 'em. He's got forty-one guitars." "Yay!" Sam whooped, and jumped up and down. "Listen to Roddy Bitts makin' up lies!" "You look out, Sam Williams!" said Roddy threateningly. "You look out how you call me names!" "What name'd I call you?" "You just the same as said I told lies.
"YAY!" Sam cried, and sought to wrest it from him. Roddy joined the scuffle, trying to retain the horn; but Penrod managed to secure it. With one free hand he fended the others off while he blew into the mouthpiece. "Let me have it," Sam urged. "You can't do anything with it. Lemme take it, Penrod." "No!" said Roddy. "Let ME! My goodness! Ain't I got any right to blow my own horn?"
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