Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 6, 2025
He's off to Acreville now, but he'll be home tonight, and father's going to send my new hat by him. When Buttercup's my own cow I wish I could change her name and call her Red Rover, but p'r'aps her mother wouldn't like it. When she b'longs to me, mebbe I won't be so fraid of gettin' hooked and scrunched, because she'll know she's mine, and she'll go better.
If you'd only told what you knew afore this smallpox business, we'd have been able to give him and his Come-Outer woman what b'longs to 'em. But not now." Captain Daniels shifted uneasily in his chair. "Hum ha!" he barked, to cover confusion. "Hum ha! It seemed to me more er charitable to give the misguided young man another chance, and I did it. But What's that?"
"When I gits back," he promised himself, "you'll be one of the fust folks I'll look fer, Jim Asberry, damn ye! All I hopes is thet nobody else don't git ye fust. Ye b'longs ter me."
But as she drew near, she could hear a queer, distressed chattering, which reminded her of the monkeys in the park zoo, and turning to one of her mates, she demanded, "What is it the boys have got treed there?" "A monkey." "A monkey?" shrieked Peace in real surprise. "Where did they get him?" "I guess he b'longs to a hand-organ man. He's dressed in funny little pants and a red cap.
"An' that," said Mulvaney, illogically, "is the cause why little Jhansi McKenna is fwhat she is. She was brought up by the Quartermaster Sergeant's wife whin McKenna died, but she b'longs to B Comp'ny; and this tale I'm tellin' you-wid a proper appreciashin av Jhansi McKenna I've belted into ivry recruity av the Comp'ny as he was drafted.
I 'spect it b'longs to de tiefs, but I don't want you to open it till some one's cotched, and then if it finds an owner, well and good; but if it don't, I want you to keep it to 'member me. It's a purty thing, an' it's mine if it don't get an owner, 'cause I found it; and, as I said, I want you to hab it." "You are not going away, are you, Jeff?" "Yes, young massa, berry fur."
"She b'longs to Uncle Larry, an' I wanted Her to b'long to me. Nobody else does I wouldn't have needed anybody else to, if She had. All I needed to b'long was Her. I wanted Her! I I love Her. She isn't Uncle Larry's she's mine! She's mine!" The thoughts of the Little Lover surged on turbulently, while the beautiful low song went on. She was singing She was singing to Uncle Larry.
"I'm sure I don't know. One o' Mr. Ware's?" "I should tink not, honey; not edzackly now. Dat ar mule b'longs ter me Nimbus! D'yer h'yer dat, 'Liab?" "No! Yer don't tell me? Bless de Lord, Nimbus, yer's a fortunit man. Yer fortin's made, Nimbus.
"I think plenty wire all fold up neat in prop-room. Wagalexa Conka, he all time clean this studio from trash lie around everywhere." "He does, hey?" Applehead's sunburnt mustache bristled like the whiskers of Compadre when he was snarling defiance at the little black dog. The feud was asserting itself. "Well, this here danged place ain't no studio! It's a ranch, and it b'longs to ME, Nip Furrman.
"ONE-legged, you mean," he said, indicating his helpless limb. Peggy's heart relented slightly. "Wot you goin' to do now?" she said. "You can't stay on THERE, you know. It b'longs to ME!" She was generous, but practical. "Were those things I fired out yours?" "Yes." "Mighty rough of me." Peggy was slightly softened. "Kin you walk?" "No." "Kin you crawl?" "Not as far as a rattler."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking