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We're not used to each other's sort of play, but that will break up the monotony of life all the more. I don't know how long we'll play or Shall we?" "Oh yes!" "Now show me how you play." "I don't believe I ever did much, really." "Well, you shall take me to your kind of a restaurant." "I don't believe you'd care much for penny meat-pies." "Little meat-pies?" "Um-huh." "Little crispy ones?
He picked up the book, griming the dainty pages as he turned them with his rough fingers, glancing at the headings. "Um-huh," he grunted, "'Sonnets from the Portegees, eh? I never thought them Dagos could write what I've seen of 'em was mostly drivin' fish-wagons or swampin' around some slaughterhouse.
"You can take it now," said Edna laying the doll on the other's lap. There should be no chance for her to change her mind. Clara slipped the doll into one of her books and just then the bell rang, so they went in together. After school Dorothy clutched her chum. "Edna Conway," she cried, "did I see you talking to Clara Adams?" "Um-huh," returned Edna. "Well, you are the greatest one.
That won't be rough like soldiers. But I'm going to be a really-truly soldier. I'm going to be a norficer in the army." "I got a cousin that's an officer in the army," Gertie said grandly, bringing her yellow-ribboned braid round over her shoulder and gently brushing her lips with the end. "Cross-your-heart?" "Um-huh." "Cross-your-heart, hope-t'-die if you ain't?" "Honest he's an officer."
He patted her back softly, and hoped: "Maybe some day we can get a little house out of town, and then you can garden.... Sorry old Siddons is laid off again.... Is the gas-stove working all right now?" "Um-huh, honey. I fixed it." "Say, let me make the coffee, Nell. You'll have enough to do with setting the table and watching the sausages." "All rightee, hun. But, oh, Billy, I'm so, shamed.
"I'm so cold," Gertie moaned from time to time, till he offered: "I'll try and build a fire. Maybe we better camp. I got a match what I swiped from the kitchen. Maybe I can make a fire, so we better camp." "I don't want to camp. I want to go home." "I don't know where we are, I told you." "Can you make a regular camp-fire? Like Indians?" "Um-huh." "Let's.... But I rather go home."
He lay for a while in silence, industriously feeding himself on the dry meat, and gazing at the sky. "Say, Rufe," he said, at last, "ain't you been holdin' out on me a little?" "Um-huh," assented Hardy. "Been gettin' letters from Miss Lucy all the time, eh?" "Sure." "Well," remarked Creede, "you're a hell of a feller!
With flaky covers?" "Um-huh." "Why, course I would! And ha'p'ny tea? Lead me to it, O brave knight! And to a vaudeville." He found that this devoted attendant of theaters had never seen the beautiful Italians who pounce upon protesting zylophones with small clubs, or the side-splitting juggler's assistant who breaks up piles and piles of plates.
We always eat in the kitchen for it's big and handy and nice and cool with all the doors and windows open. But I'll carry things in the room to-night. It will please Martin if we have things nice for his girl." "Um-huh, Martin's got a girl!" sang Charlie gleefully. "Yes," spoke up Johnny, a little older and wiser than Charlie. "I know he's got a girl.
As he rode down the hill into the camp that afternoon Creede came out to meet him, and when his eyes fell upon the empty belt, he smiled knowingly. "Well, you woke up, did you?" he inquired, laying one hand carelessly on the bulge in Hardy's right shap, where modest cowboys sometimes secrete their guns. "Um-huh!" he grunted, slapping the left shap to make sure. "I suspected as much.
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