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Updated: June 14, 2025
However, we'd a deal better have kept to the bulldog's motter, 'Hang on', and stick to it, even if it was a shade slow and stupid. We'd have come out right in the end, as all coves do that hold fast to the right thing and stick to the straight course, fair weather or foul. I can see that now, and many things else.
"Well, all's well that ends well," said Mamma placidly, as she secretly returned thanks that her daughters were not as others. But later, far into the night, Damaris stood at her window, with her arms round the bulldog's neck. "You're the only one who really loves me, Well-Well. Everybody else run away and leaves me. I'm I'm, so unhappy!"
This the younger man endeavoured to accomplish by clutching the bulldog's jaws in his hands and trying to spread them. It was a vain undertaking. As he pulled and tugged and wrenched, he kept exclaiming with every expulsion of breath, "Beasts!"
About a quarter to one he turned from his slate and cocked his ear, and in two minutes afterwards every boy in Bulldog's class-room understood that the war had begun and that we had been taken by surprise. Scouts from McIntyre's, as we afterwards learned, had risked the danger of playing truant, which in a school like theirs cost nothing, and had visited our playground.
As the pungent scent of this beast reached the bulldog's snub nose, the leash that held him to the trunk became a thing of little worth. With a violent lurch he broke it, leaped from the door, landed sprawling alongside the track, and was off in pursuit of the strange animal.
The purser of the steamer had gone to the trouble of introducing a famous BOULE-DOGGE from Quebec, on the trip after that on which he had given such a hostile opinion of Pichon. The bulldog's intentions were unmistakable; he expressed them the moment he touched the beach; and when they carried him back to the boat on a fish-barrow many flattering words were spoken about Pichou.
His story was even more so, and was indeed so affecting, not to say picturesque, that Bailie Cosh came into Bulldog's room with his son two days afterwards to settle matters. "A' called, Maister MacKinnon," he said, in tones charged with dignity, "to explain the cause of my son Robert's absence; he was in bed with a poultice on his face twenty-four hours, an' he'll no be himself for days."
"He's a good ween man, and and it would have been terrible to see him die before our eyes." "Who saved Nestie?" Bulldog's face was white, and Jock swore afterwards the tears were in his eyes but that we did not believe. "It was one of the boys, sir" Robertson's voice was very proud "and it was a gallant deed; but I can't give his name, because he made me promise not to tell."
Ye 'ill hunt us into Bulldog's class-room, and then go off yirsel to shoot rabbits; but ye 'ill no' play ony tricks on me, Peter McGuffie." "I will go," said Speug, manfully, "though I'll no' promise to write." "Say as sure's death," said Jock, knowing Speug's wiles.
For the desire of Bulldog's heart was that Nestie should win, and if though that, of course, was too absurd Speug by the help of the favouring gods should come in second, Bulldog would feel that he had not lived in vain.
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