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Updated: June 2, 2025
No sooner did it crawl out of the water than Bob Croaker seized it, and whirled it round his head, amid suppressed cries of "Shame!" intending to throw it in again; but at that instant Martin Rattler seized Bob by the collar of his coat with both hands, and, letting himself drop suddenly, dragged the cruel boy to the ground, while the kitten crept humbly away and hid itself in a thick tuft of grass.
Then, addressing herself to an old man, who was being carried with great difficulty through the dense crowd, upon a chair, by two men, the hag continued: "Hey? don't go in there, old croaker; die here in the open air instead of dying in that den, where you'll be doctored like an old rat."
There was a strange mixture of philosophical gravity, too, in Martin. As he grew older he became more enthusiastic and less boisterous. Bob Croaker was still at the school, and was, from prudential motives, a fast friend of Martin. But he bore him a secret grudge, for he could not forget the great fight.
A moment sufficed to enable Bob Croaker, who was nearly twice Martin's weight, to free himself from the grasp of his panting antagonist, whom he threw on his back, and doubled his fist, intending to strike Martin on the face; but a general rush of the boys prevented this. "Shame, shame, fair-play!" cried several; "don't hit him when he's down!"
My eyes were too dazzled by the glitter of the sea below his feet to see him clearly; I am fated never to see him clearly; but I can assure you no man could have appeared less "in the similitude of a corpse," as that half-caste croaker had put it. I could see the little wretch's face, the shape and colour of a ripe pumpkin, poked out somewhere under Jim's elbow.
"I'm down but not out, darlin'. That brute of a doctor jolted me hard; I nearly took the count but I'm still in the ring. Harness me up, Lucius. I'll show that sawbones the power of mind over matter the ould croaker!" He recovered rapidly and was soon able to stagger to his feet. Then, with a return of his wonted humor, he stretched out his big right arm.
Couldn't get any satisfaction out of him. But I I know!" "I'm afraid you are a croaker," said Diamond, unable to keep still longer. "You may think so now; but wait and see wait. Keep your eyes open. I I think you will see something. I think you will find there are mysterious things going on." "Well, you have not told us what you want of us, Mr. Slush," said Frank. "That's so forgot it."
They say the Prussians have quit Saarbrück in a hurry. I suppose we'll be in Germany to-night, and then vlan! vlan! eh, old fellow? We'll be out for a long campaign. I'd like to see Berlin I wish I spoke German." "They say," said Jack, "that most of the German officers speak French." "Bird of ill-omen, croaker, cease! What the devil do we want to learn German for?
"Bob Croaker, I would rather do anything than fight. I would give you everything I have to save my kitten; but if you won't spare it unless I fight, I'll do it. If you throw it in before you fight me, you're the greatest coward that ever walked. Just give me five minutes to breathe and a drink of water, and I'll fight you as long as I can stand." Bob looked at his little foe in surprise.
Croaker was able to east a gloom upon the gayest circle, and the happiest conjuncture of circumstances, by wishing that all might be as well that day six months. Six months! What might that time not do? Perhaps you have not read a little poem of Barry Cornwall's, the idea of which must come home to the heart of most of us:
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