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Updated: May 8, 2025
Then I saw that Andrews's bullet had jammed itself into the joint of the hilt, smashing flat on the steel and breaking up, part of it falling away as I drew it forth. The knife had saved my life; for the shot had been true, and would have been instantly fatal had it penetrated.
"May I speak to you, Colonel, about the school scheme?" "I suppose you've got permission from somebody to come to me." "No, sir." Andrews's mind was struggling to find something to say. "Well, you'd better go and get it." "But, Colonel, there isn't time; the travel orders are being made out at this minute. I've heard that there's been a name crossed out on the list." "Too late."
Of him I must speak at greater length, for a reason which will shortly appear. Andrews was the name by which he was known to the circles in which he moved. No one, from Sir John Tennier, the fashionable portrait painter, to Kruski, of the Russian ballet, disputed Andrews's right to be counted one of the elect.
They was Andrews's mates for a spell, until th' Irishman, God bless him, knocked him overboards an' nearly killed him in a scuffle on th' India Docks." "Cast loose; I want to hear," said the bos'n. There was a moment's silence, and Chips looked at me as though questioning the senior officer of his watch.
"Oh, Marilla," she exclaimed breathlessly, "there's going to be a Sunday-school picnic next week in Mr. Harmon Andrews's field, right near the lake of Shining Waters. And Mrs. Superintendent Bell and Mrs. Rachel Lynde are going to make ice cream think of it, Marilla ICE CREAM! And, oh, Marilla, can I go to it?" "Just look at the clock, if you please, Anne. What time did I tell you to come in?"
His eyes met Andrews's eyes with a flash of fear. "They're all sorts of officers, like they're all sorts of us," Al was insisting. "But you damn fools, quit arguing," cried Smiddy. "What the hell are we goin' to do? It ain't safe here no more, that's how I look at it." They were silent. At last Chrisfield said: "What you goin' to do, Andy?" "I hardly know. I think I'll go out to St.
After he had received a severe cut and had cracked the skull of the sailor who had given it by knocking him over the head with an iron belaying-pin, he began to retreat along the deck. Chips had planted his knife in Andrews's thigh, and had cut Dalton and Journegan badly in the mix-up.
"This same Andrews as is forrads in irons was running the Starbuck with Jameson as mate, an' old Garnett as second under him. Ye all know that old pirit. But this time he didn't have any hand in Andrews's game. Andrews wanted to marry the girl Jameson had, an' whin he found he had lost her he played his devil's trick.
What shall we think, then, of the vandals who during the past year twice cut out the article on political economy in "Appletons' Cyclopædia," so mutilated Thomson's "Cyclopædia of the Useful Arts" as to render it valueless, and bore off bodily Storer's "Dictionary of the Solubilities," the second volume of the new edition of the "Encyclopædia Britannica," Andrews's "Latin Dictionary," and several other valuable works?
"What's the use of living at all? For the fun of it, man; damn ends." "But the only profound fun I ever have is that..." Andrews's voice broke. "O God, I would give up every joy in the world if I could turn out one page that I felt was adequate.... D'you know it's years since I've talked to anybody?"
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