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The big bowwow strain I can do myself, like any now going; but the exquisite touch which renders ordinary commonplace things and characters interesting from the truth of the description and the sentiment, is denied to me. What a pity such a gifted creature died so early!"
Simple, I know; but this little experience made me feel like I'd signed a gen'ral peace treaty with the world at large. I hadn't, though. An hour later I runs up against Willis G. Briscoe. He's kind of an outside development manager, who makes preliminary reports on new deals. One of these cold-eyed, chesty parties, Willis G. is; tall and thin, and with a big, bowwow voice that has a rasp to it.
She's a 'bowwow, and I'm afraid she'll bite." Mrs. Ried laughed. She had no idea how sharply Ester had been tried with petty vexations all that morning, nor how bitter those words sounded to her. "Come, Sadie," she said; "what a silly child you are. Can't you do any thing soberly?" "I should think I might, ma'am, when I have such a sober and solemn employment on hand as dish-washing.
We could hear them yelp, yelp, yelp, while they were on the tracks and heard them when they came up to the bears. Then there was a wonderful confusion of voices. We could hear our dogs and they seemed to be struggling hard for their lives. "Bow-wow, bow, bowwow, yelp, yelp, yelp, tii, tii, tii." When the dogs got to the bears we were about half a mile from them.