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Updated: May 28, 2025
He was attempting, when Stephen appeared, to get a little heat into his hands by rubbing them, as a man who kindles a stick of wood for a visitor. The gentleman had red chop-whiskers, to continue to put his worst side foremost, which demanded a ruddy face. He welcomed Stephen to St. Louis with neighborly effusion; while his wife, a round little woman, bubbled over to Mrs. Brice.
On the table was a silver tea service and some delicate porcelain cups and saucers. The kettle bubbled on the hob. Chairs were drawn close before the blaze, for, despite the "springiness" in the air without, the atmosphere in the vast library of the chateau was damp and chill.
The very thing that was uppermost in his mind to be avoided suddenly bubbled to his lips, almost, it would seem, in defiance of his own will. "What about the small the small-pox?" he asked. "We have got it under," replied Jack quietly. "We had a very bad time for three days, but we got all the cases isolated and prevented it from spreading.
But a hundred feet farther on, Catherine Tonsard, who was on the watch, rushed out of the wood and knocked so violently against the flying girl that she was thrown down. The violence of the fall made her unconscious. Catherine picked her up and carried her into the woods to the middle of a tiny meadow where the Silver-spring brook bubbled up.
It was a village of fountains. They poured from the sides of houses, bubbled up at street corners, sprang from stone troughs by the roadside, and one even gushed from the very walls of the old Church itself, and fell with a monotonous tinkle into a carved stone basin beneath. The old Church stood on a high plateau overlooking the lake.
Tallents Smallpeace, prone to laughter, bubbled. "Oh, that is such a delicious expression, Mr. Purcey! I almost think we ought to use it in our Report. Thank you!" Mr. Purcey bowed. "Not at all!" he said. Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace turned again to Stephen. "We have our trained inquirers. That is the advantage of Societies such as ours; so that we don't personally have the unpleasantness.
Through the roots of one tree that was visited, a beautiful spring of ice-cold water bubbled up. The spring came up through a decayed opening in the root of the tree. California is much different from the Eastern States. In the low lands of California there is no lightning nor thunder. The rain comes so gently that sometimes one has to look out-of-doors to see whether or not it is raining.
He threw his arm about Rex's neck with a force of affection which almost knocked down the quartette. "Recky," he bubbled, "good old Recky bes' fren' ev' had I'm drunk, Recky too bad. We're both drunk. Take's home." Rex glanced at his cousin in dismay, and Strong repeated his invitation cordially. "Take's home, Recky," he insisted, with the easy air of a man who confers an honor.
Upon the very margin of the ditch, not thirty feet from where they crouched, an iron caldron bubbled and steamed above a glowing fire; and close by, in an attitude of listening, as though he had caught some sound of their clambering among the ruins, a tall, red-faced, battered-looking man stood poised, an iron spoon in his right hand, a horn and a formidable dagger at his belt.
Palmer and Drake. 11th July 1870. The Burtons spent their summer in a diminutive Christian village called B'ludan, on the Anti-Lebanon, at the head of the Vale of Zebedani, Burton having chosen it as his sanitarium. A beautiful stream with waterfalls bubbled through their gardens, which commanded magnificent views of the Lebanon country. As at Santos, Mrs.
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