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Descriptions of scenery, statistics, tales humorous and pathetic, patriotic appeal, and prophetic vision came pouring forth in an overwhelming flood from the great man, whose tall, sinewy form swayed and rocked in his passion, and whose Scotch voice burred through his sonorous periods.
"I object!" the Connie bellowed. "Come now," MacFife burred soothingly. "Checking a few instruments won’t hurt ye." A small rocket exhaust appeared, leaving the Aquila. The exhaust grew rapidly, more rapidly than that of any snapper-boat. Rip watched it, while keeping his ears tuned to the space conversation. Koa tugged his arm. "See that, sir?" Rip nodded.
"I see naught in your eye but deviltry and jokes." "None are so blind as they that will not see. If you see a joke, dad, it's on you." Old Hector blinked, then suddenly he sprang at his son, grasped him by the shoulders, and backed him against the wall. "Did you sell me that red cedar?" he demanded incredulously. "Aye, mon; through an agent," Donald burred Scottishly.
That he was wounded, I knew. I was stealing stealthily towards the stretcher at the far end of the place, when a deep voice burred rough salutation in my ear. "Hoo are ye, gillie?" It was a shaggy-browed, bluff Scotchman, who evidently took me in my tartan disguise for a Highland lad. Whether he meant, "How are you," or "Who are you," I was not certain.
Open earth and swallow me!" he almost screamed, and I heard the sound of two persons coming in violent collision at the entrance. "The babe, as I live! The rascally young broth of a babe! Ye rogue, ye!" burred the deep bass tones of the trader whom I had met over Louis Laplante. "What are ye doin' here?" "Oh, is it only you? Thank fortune!" ejaculated the boy, dodging back.
Then the sack was let down, sewed up, rolled to the scales and weighed, marked with the ranch-mark, the weight, the grade, and was ready for the freighters and a market. About ten thousand pounds of wool were sheared, burred, packed, marked, and perhaps shipped, in a day.
By the time they were back in the garage and had the grease cleaned out of the rear gears so that they could see whether they were really burred or broken, as Bud had suspected, the twinkle was back in his eyes, and the smiley quirk stayed at the corners of his mouth, and when he was not talking mechanics with Bill he was whistling.
"Go after him hurry don't let him go! Don't ye understand? He mustn't go away with no one believing in him. Tell him it's a mistake; tell him anything only go!" While Patsy's tongue burred out its Irish brogue she pushed at the tall figure in front of her pushed with all her might. "Are ye nailed to the floor? What's happened to your feet?
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