Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 5, 2025
Tom chuckled as he grabbed a towel and dried himself off. The beefsteak, with crisp golden-brown French fried potatoes, was already at hand on Chow's lunch cart. Tom ate with a hearty appetite and the stout chef went off, secretly plotting to arrange the second half of his prescription. When he reached the galley, Chow plucked the wall phone off its hook and called Bud at an airfield hangar.
Chow's vile den might spoil some good material for the quarter-deck, and, as a matter of midshipman honor, we're bound to see that the place is cleaned out right away." "I guess, Darry, you come pretty near being right," assented Hallam, after thinking for a few moments. By the time they reached Chow Hop's again they found that Dr. Lawrence had brought the unfortunate Pennington to.
Then, as he saw the disturbed look on Chow's face, Tom burst out laughing. "Okay. Relax, old-timer! Guess I was dreaming." "Brand my snake oil!" Chow said. "You looked so pale an' pasty, you had me plumb scared, Tom! I couldn't wake you nohow!" Worriedly the cook added, "What you need is a good beefsteak and some sunshine. You been under water too long." "In more ways than one!"
To-night it would be otherwise. Durham gently raised the trap in the roof of Huang Chow's treasure-house. He was prepared for snares and pitfalls. No sane man, on the evidence which he, Durham, had been compelled to leave behind, would have neglected to fasten the skylight which so obviously afforded a means of entrance into his premises. Therefore, he was expected to return.
"With the earth's population increasing, this could be the answer to the food problem." "Don't tell Chow," Bud added, "or we may find spaceburgers on the next menu!" The Swifts chuckled. Chow's hobby of concocting weird dishes was a standing joke at Enterprises, and already had led to such dubious triumphs as armadillo stew and rattlesnake soup.
Smiley glided off gently at first, Chow fanning the air with his hat and yipping like a rodeo star. He did, in fact, cling to his slippery perch with considerable skill. But suddenly Smiley began bobbing and humping like an eel. Chow's face froze in alarm. A moment later the porpoise dived and the cook let out a yell of terror, "He-e-elp!" Roaring with laughter, Tom dived in and rescued him.
A mandarin of the sixth degree need not hesitate to mingle on terms of assured equality with other mandarins of the sixth degree, and without any guide beyond a seemly instinct he perceives the reasonableness of assuming a deferential obsequiousness before a mandarin of the fifth rank, and a counterbalancing arrogance when in the society of an official who has only risen to the seventh degree, thus conforming to that essential principle of harmonious intercourse, "Remember that Chang Chow's ceiling is Tong Wi's floor"; but who shall walk with even footsteps in a land where the most degraded may legally bear the same distinguished name as that of the enlightened sovereign himself, where the admittedly difficult but even more purposeless achievement of causing a gold mine to float is held to be more praiseworthy than to pass a competitive examination or to compose a poem of inimitable brilliance, and where one wearing gilt buttons and an emblem in his hat proves upon ingratiating approach not to be a powerful official but a covetous and illiterate slave of inferior rank?
They rotted in the field till the stink of them was worse than a chow's camp, an' what didn't rot was just cooked in the sun. Peaches the same, an' great big melons for a shilling a dozen. That's farming for you! The only time you could sell things would be when you haven't got 'em. Whiskey can eat melon like a good 'un, and grapes too."
"Kinda like a lil music while I wrassle them pots an' pans in the galley." "Sure, pardner." Tom pointed toward a portable radio on a shelf nearby. Chow's leathery face broke into a grin as he picked it up. "One o' them slick lil transistor doodads, eh?" The cook flicked on the dial knob and the twangy strains of Hawaiian guitar music came throbbing out.
Chow's tasty meals helped break the monotony. It was the following day when they reached the missile search area. Tom surfaced the Sea Hound and reversed blade pitch, then gunned the rotor turbines for an aerial reconnaissance flight, while the jetmarine and the other seacopter stood by in the water. "Brand my guppies, it's some ocean, eh, boss?" Chow remarked in an awed voice.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking