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Updated: July 7, 2025


She pretended that John would become too proud to know the poor little Creams!... "I'm not too proud to know anyone," he interrupted. She burbled at him, and pressed closer to him. "You're quite complimentary," she said. Cream had given John a note to the manager of the theatre which induced that gentleman to admit him, free of charge, to the stalls.

Her voice went on, velvety in his ear: "It was the moonlight, sweetheart, coming on your face." Little Jon burbled into her nightgown "You said it was beautiful. Oh!" "Not to sleep in, Jon. Who let it in? Did you draw the curtains?" "I wanted to see the time; I I looked out, I I heard you playing, Mum; I I ate my macaroon."

He burbled, "Shut up, Teenie. This lady is all right. Give her a room. Number 2 is empty, and I guess Number 7 has been made up since Bill left if 'tain't, the sheets ain't been slept on but one night." "Where d' you come " "Now don't go shooting off a lot of questions at the lady, Teenie. I'll show her the rooms." The woman turned on her husband.

He watered them where a plume of thin vapor disclosed the whereabouts of a never-freezing spring which burbled softly between its low, ice-encrusted banks. It proved a difficult matter, crippled as he was, to handle the horses, but at length he got them into the stable, chinked the broken feed-boxes as best he could, and removed the bridles, hanging them upon the hames.

"Good for sore eyes to see you," he burbled. "How the years fly! You're looking fine. The secret of youth is yours." Alice smiled and complimented in return in the royal Polynesian way of friendliness. "My, my," Cyrus Hodge reminisced. "I was such a boy in those days!" "SOME boy," she laughed acquiescence. "But knowing no more than the foolishness of a boy in those long- ago days."

"Then it's business troubles," she thought, "unless he's a psychic researcher. And if he was, he wouldn't be so easy with his face." So Laughing Eyes burbled again, and then burst out: "I see a atmosphere of trouble!"

"Of course, I don't know much about it, but when you get chaps like Hare and Sartiaux and Fox talking seriously about it, you listen seriously to them. Anyhow, I do. Old Hare told me yesterday I was getting on nicely!..." Mrs. Graham was delighted. "Did he, dear?" she burbled at Ninian. "Yes," Ninian answered, "he said I wasn't such an ass as he'd thought I was. Oh, I'm getting on all right!"

Where ye goin' ter hide when the owner of them team comes a huntin' of 'em? Ha, ha, ha!" "Shet up!" growled the man so shortly that the woman, eying him narrowly, turned toward the rickety pump, which burbled and wheezed as she worked the handle, filling the pail in spasmodic splashes.

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