"And who art thou, boy? I see not my reflection in the vacant pupils of thy eyes. Oh God! that man should be a thing for immortal souls to sieve through! Who art thou, boy?" "Bell-boy, sir; ship's-crier; ding, dong, ding! Pip! Pip! Pip! One hundred pounds of clay reward for Pip; five feet high looks cowardly quickest known by that! Ding, dong, ding! Who's seen Pip the coward?"
By the middle of June only William and the gray kitten were left with Pete and Dong Ling in the Beacon Street house. Cyril had sailed for England, and Bertram had gone on a sketching trip with a friend. To William the house this summer was unusually lonely; indeed, he found the silent, deserted rooms almost unbearable.
Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong: "Lost, last night, between the jetty and the York Hotel, a little boy, as answers to the name of Spot, whoever has found the same, and will bring him to the cryer, shall receive a reward of half-a-crown." Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong: "Lost, stolen, or strayed, or otherwise conveyed, a brown-and-white King Charles's setter as answers to the name of Jacob Jones.
You know he never can do anything with his left hand, he says, and he just hates to have things done for him though Pete and Dong Ling are quarreling with each other all the time to do things for him, and I'm quarreling with both of them to do them for him myself! By the way, Dong Ling is going to leave us next week. Did you know it?" "Dong Ling leave!" "Yes.
It seemed only a part of the tale, therefore, when the bell of Fairfax church pealed out the first warning of the Sunday service to all the countryside. "Ding dong, din, all come in, all come in," the bell had said to Anne since childhood, and now it called her, until it silenced the crashing voices of the bells of old London, and she had to listen. She laid down her book.
Close to them lay an American foot-soldier, writhing with pain from a bayonet-wound in the abdomen; and over in the farther corner he could distinguish a woman, dressed in black, lying on a ragged mattress. Ding dong, ding dong, rang the bells up above, but the noise of battle did not penetrate here. "What are you doing, sonny?" asked the captain.
Here, where everybody is of your people!... Forget all that. We are all equals in life. There is only one truth: Love." "Ding, dong!" groaned the bell aloft in the Catholic Cathedral, weeping the death of day. "Lead Kindly Light!" sang the voices of the virgins and the children in the Protestant temple, resounding through the twilight silence of the square.
"I am keeping near the river, sahib. I know the country well. We cannot follow the road, for there the Rajah's troops and the Sepoys and the Oude men are gathered to oppose your people. They will fight tomorrow at Dong, as I told you, but the main body is not far from here. We must keep far away from them, and if your people take Dong we can then join them if we like.
But Bert did not, and it was not until his mother had shaken him vigorously, several hours later, that he became aware of the frantic sounding of the fire alarm. "Herbert! Herbert!" called his mother. "The fire bell is ringing!" "Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong!" The bell gave out four quick strokes. Then a pause. "Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong!"
Dong Ling found him there a minute later polishing a silver teaspoon with a fringed napkin that had been spread over Bertram's tray. In the hall above Aunt Hannah was crying into William's gray linen duster that hung on the hall-rack Aunt Hannah's handkerchief was on the floor back at Hillside. In the den neither Billy nor Bertram knew or cared what had become of Aunt Hannah and Pete.