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Updated: May 5, 2025
"Sing, sing aloud, this blessed morn It is fulfilled and He is born, Oh, joy without compare! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" Thus sounded the old psalm tune, and every one on board the ship felt lifted up in his own way, through the song and the prayer, just as the old tree had felt lifted up in its last, its most beauteous dream in the Christmas night. "Ding-dong! ding-dong!"
"O!" he cried, and opened his eyes faintly, expecting to find himself smothered with blood. It was water, not blood, that was dripping from him. The boy looked up in fear. Old Ding-dong drenched too, the water trickling down his nose, still nursed his ship tender as a mother. There was not the ghost of a smile on his face, no curl of contempt about his mouth. Kit thanked him inwardly.
Where's father's fur cap? Is the sleigh at the door? Are the hot soapstones in? Have all of you your money for the contribution box?" Ding-dong! Ding-dong! It was a blithe bell, a sweet, true bell, a holy bell, and to Justin pacing his tavern room, as to Nancy trembling in her maiden chamber, it rang a Christmas message: Awake, glad heart! Arise and sing; It is the birthday of thy King!
Old Ding-dong kept one eye on his topsails, and one on his foe, sliding towards him across the water. "Like the Shadow o Death a'most, ain't she?" said the old man in hushed voice "so still-like and stealy." He dropped a kind eye on the boy's face. "Makes ye think first time, don't it? I mind Quiberon. Guts feel fainty like." He renewed his watch. The twinkle had left his eyes.
The look of strain on the set and yellowing face passed. The old man was tired: he had done with the world; he would shut his eyes for ever on it. The kind wrinkles, deep-puckered about his mouth, seemed to gather into a smile. Lying there with set mouth, and stubborn chin, in death, as in life, he was old Ding-dong still. Kit could not bury the old man: he had no tools.
Ding-dong ding dong! The last echo of the last bell died away upon the air the last words enunciated by devout priests in their cloistered seclusion were said "In hora mortis nostrae!
Then cocking his eye up the field, "the Ballabeg for leader," he cried, "he's a plate-ribbed man. And let ould Maggie take the butt along with him. Jemmy the Red for the after-rig, and Robbie to follow Mollie with the cart Now ding-dong, boys, bend your backs and down with it."
And I heard that for four livelong days those overwise roisters had been at it ding-dong, disputing on three high, more than metaphysical propositions, promising themselves mountains of gold by solving them. The first was concerning a he-ass's shadow; the second, of the smoke of a lantern; and the third of goat's hair, whether it were wool or no.
Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding See our spell Can hold him fast. Tinkle bell The hour is past. It was not very polite for Mrs. Cricky to laugh, but really she could not help it. Never did she see such a buzzing, clumsy attempt at imitation as this. By this time the Noisy Fly had spied Mrs. Cricky, and his popping black eyes scanned her anxiously, for he was accustomed to be driven off wherever he went.
"I breaks it to him short and straight. "'Captain Caryll's compliments, sir, says I. 'And he's dead. "Nelson claps his hands to his face as though I'd struck him. Then he falls on my neck afoor em all Dons too. "'O Ding-dong! says he. 'I loved him. Just like that. 'I loved him.... "Yes, that was Nelson all through: one alf woman, t'other alf hero. "Then he pulls himself together.
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