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Updated: May 3, 2025
That's a story, Peter Rabbit. How could Unc' Billy have fallen over dead and be alive up in that tree this very minute?" cried Happy Jack. "I didn't mean he was really dead, but that he looked as if he were dead," explained Peter. "And he did, too. He was the deadest looking thing I ever saw. I thought he was dead myself.
Willa commanded. "If I don't hear the front door slam in just thirty seconds, you'll be the deadest hombre this side of Kingdom Come!" There were a few seconds to spare from her ultimatum when the scurry of feet ceased in a thud which echoed through the silent house. Willa slipped the revolver back under her belt and turned with a little rueful smile to her cousin.
"Go ahead, Bob, and hurry!" Webster did hurry, and Crawford had scarcely more than time to enjoy half-a-dozen exquisite throbs of agony and observe that the light through the trees, Northward, was growing brighter and brighter, when he came running back, very jubilant. "Dead as the deadest kind of a herring!" he said. "Didn't hit him where I meant to, but it answered.
The deadest hour of the night was come; the outside world seemed to press upon the house, the whole world cold, thick, damp, lifeless, like an animal slain and falling with its full weight, crushing everything beneath it. Perhaps she slept she did not know. Martin seemed to be with her, and against them was Aunt Anne, her back against the door, her hands spread, refusing to let them pass.
That's so you've called him Perkins all along, but this is the first time I've seen him here, and I didn't put two and two together. His letters and 'phones about this supper came from in town somewhere. Why, he's Chris Parker, the biggest hotel man in the country. Nobody like him he'd make the deadest hotel in the loneliest hamlet pay in a month. Head of all the hotel organizations you can count.
There they were, though, in the stately old Pennington house, that was never thrown open for nothing; and when they were once there you really could not tell the difference; unless, indeed, it were that the old, middle wood was the deadest, just as it is in the trees; and that the life was in the new sap and the green rind.
"Which are the deadest?" said Babbalanja, peeping in, "the live kings, or the dead ones?" But the former were drooping flowers sought to be revived by watering. At intervals the sedulous attendants went to and fro, besprinkling their heads with the scented contents of their vases.
"And the next instant," added my informant, impressively, "he was one of the deadest men that ever lived." The stage-drivers and conductors told us that sometimes Slade would leave a hated enemy wholly unmolested, unnoticed and unmentioned, for weeks together had done it once or twice at any rate.
It is perhaps not possible to put into human language that emotion which rises when a man stands upon some plot of European soil and can say with certitude to himself: "Such and such great, or wonderful, or beautiful things happened here." Touch that emotion ever so lightly and it tumbles into the commonplace, and the deadest of commonplace.
Such are the lights, and such the candlesticks, that are to be found in the cabins and cottages of Ireland. "I suppose, Molly," said Reilly, "you are surprised at a visit from me just now?" "You know, Mr. Reilly," she replied, "that if you came in the deadest hours of the night you'd be welcome, as I said and this poor man is welcome too sit over to the fire, poor man, and warm yourself.
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