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Updated: June 25, 2025
"And how I came bustin' into the cabin with a pan full of iron pyrites and black sand," chuckled Union Mills, continuing the reminiscences, "and how them big gray eyes of his nearly bulged out of his head. Well, it's some satisfaction to know we did our duty by the young fellow even in those little things."
Just before reaching the Longman cabin, she raised her voice and sang again, "Rescue the perishin', Care for the dyin'." Some one opened the door and she bounded in. "Glad ye come, Tessibel," said Mrs. Longman, a small wizened old woman. "The brat air sick to-day. He does nothin' but squall so that my head air a bustin' the hours through. Give him to Tessibel, Myry."
He knew that Ike had an utter detestation of Pete, and did not have to guess at the reason. "I paid him more than that by fi' hundred. How's that?" "Tcha'! Pete ain't no account anyways," Ike retorted angrily. "Say, he pitches his dollars to glory at poker 'most every night. Pete ain't got no sort o' savee. You don't see me bustin' my wad that way." "How about the gals?
See my wife; tell her what we have seen; let her send Rais Ali into town with other servants separately, not to attract attention with baskets full baskets, you understand?" "Yis, Signor, full to bustin'," answered Bobi, with glittering eyes. "Full as they can hold of all that is needful she will understand that.
It would have been as easy to make away with twenty thousand dollars as with three thousand, and the penalty would not have been greater. "Kind of a childish sum," said Scattergood to himself. "'Tain't wuth bustin' up a life over not three thousand.... Calc'late Ovid hain't bad not at a figger of three thousand. Jest a dum fool him and his tailor-made clothes...."
"It's Hank Crittenden, and he hates me like poison!" murmured Uncle Ezra, as he arose from the pile of dirt, and tried to get some of it off his clothes. "Hi, there! What's this mean?" demanded Hank, as he rushed up, clutching a stout club. "What d'ye mean, comin' down in my orchard, and bustin' up my best Baldwin tree? What d'ye mean?"
If you don't have nothin' to give up, like some o' the tramps that happen along here and convince the Elder they're jest bustin' with the fear o' God, why, o' course 't ain't no trick at all to be a Believer." "Did you have much to give up, Brother Ansel?" Susanna asked. "'Bout's much as any sinner ever had that jined this Community," replied Ansel, complacently.
Banks are bustin every day, goin up higher nor any balloon of which we hav any record. These western bankers air a sweet & luvly set of men. I wish I owned as good a house as some of 'em would break into! Virtoo is its own reward. A. Ward. It is with no ordernary feelins of Shagrin & indignashun that I rite you these here lines.
The marble-whiteness of the ice masses was set off by the blues and soft violets of their shadows, and by a pearly sheen wherever the planes caught the light at a proper slant for the play of prisms. Beautiful as it was, the sight was fearful to Rainey, in common with the crew. Only Lund surveyed it nonchalantly. "It's bustin' up fast," he said. "All we need is a little luck.
"And if you sue we can prove in court it was an accident. So you'll have your trouble for your pains." "I will, hey? Well, I'll show you, Ezra Larabee. I'll teach you to come around here bustin' my things up with your old airship! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a man of your age, trying to fly like a hen or rooster." "I'm trying for the government prize," said Dick's uncle, weakly. "Huh!
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