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Updated: May 14, 2025
ANCIENT. Leapin' in the air, rollin' in the grass, wi' they keepers clingin' to 'im like leeches ah! leeches SIMON. And every time they rushed, tap 'ud go 'is "left," and bang 'ud go 'is "right" ANCIENT. An' up 'e'd get, like Samson again, Peter, an' give 'isself a shake; bellerin' like a bull o' Bashan SIMON. Ye see, they fou't so close together that the keepers was afear'd to use their guns
"Terrible! terrible!" he said, very slowly, and passed it on to Farmer Tresidder. "What is it? Where be I to look? Aw, pore chaps pore chaps! Man alive but there's one movin'!" Zeb snatched the glass. "'Pon the riggin', Zeb, just under her lee! I saw en move a black-headed chap, in a red shirt " "Right, Farmer he's clingin', too, not lashed." Zeb gave a long look. "Darned if I won't!" he said.
"Fine wimming," remarked Sott, sagely, "is like pizen vine, pooty and clingin, but pesky dangerous; I hadn't better teched Pluggie. A woming of your own is worse yet. She spiles on you, and you can't sell her as you do a hoss or a nigger." Pierce looked at the darky, who grinned self-consciously. "How many times over has Abe sold you since you ran away from the island?"
Somethin's soaked into him in the last day or two. It's them old painters, I think, that's helpin' him. He come in a while ago with that child clingin' to him and them two mossbacks followin' behin', and his face was all ironed out, and I could see a song trembling on his lips all ready to burst out. Pray God it'll last!"
The poor girl screamed and held out her arms for the little lad, but the boat was shoved off an' the last thing I can remember, as a mountain of water rolled up between us an' the ship, was seein' Michael still clingin' to the rail an' holdin' little Gerald on his arm. Then Mona fainted agin my shoulder and I had my hands full tendin' her an' the baby.
I've got him, an' I got a blow on my cocoanut that well-nigh cracked it. At the same time a boat-hook caught my coat collar an' held on. In a few seconds more I was hauled on board of the Cherub by Manx Bradley, an' the feller that was clingin' to my neck like a young lobster was Fred Martin. The Saucy Jane went to the bottom that night." "An' Black Thomson did he go down with her?" asked Duffy.
And for the next hour or so, when I wa'n't clingin' to the ceilin' with my eyelids, tackin' things up, I was down on all-fours arrangin' rugs, or executin' other merry little stunts. Aunty had collected a whole truckload of fancy junk, wall tapestries, old armor, Russian tea machines, and such, with the idea of transformin' this half-bare loft of Djickyns's into a swell studio.
De Lawd know bes' why he let such folks die. She was like a passion vine creepin' up de oak all tender and clingin' an' lubin', wid tears in her blue eyes ebin wen he pettin' her, an' he was tall an' straight an' strong wid eyes dat laffed or flashed jes as de 'casion was. I kin see him now come marchin' down Meetin' Street at de head ob his men, all raised hisself.
Take it away at once!" "But we can't," explained Trot. "We've got to take the umbrella with us to the Pink Country. We'll put it down if you like, an' cross the bank in this drizzle which may be clingin' an' soulful, but is too wet to be comfort'ble. But the umbrella's got to go with us."
"I 'ain't got a Jane, of course, so I decides to take a little look around all by myself. Well, I goes down the Chomps-Eleezy feelin' pretty good and sorta peppy and lookin' for trouble. I see all them army heroes the vets and the dentists and the S O S each with a skirt, and I passes Matthews, here, with his skirt clingin' to him like a cootie." "Cut it out, you big stiff," interposed Matthews.
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