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Updated: September 5, 2025
Poyser were now at the end of the second field, so they set Totty on the top of one of the large stones forming the true Loamshire stile, and awaited the loiterers Totty observing with complacency, "Dey naughty, naughty boys me dood."
Net hit it and drove it out of the diamond, although Mulloy made a desperate effort to reach it. "Vat vos you goot for, you Irish pogtrotter?" demanded Hans. "Vy did dot ball not stop you?" "G'wan! g'wan!" retorted Barney. "It was a clane hit, Dutchy." "You dood not pelief it. I vill haf to struck efry patter oudt. Der vos no udder vay when a pitcher gets dot kind of rotten suppordt."
"Oh; perry dood seat," said Queequeg, "my country way; won't hurt him face." "Face!" said I, "call that his face? very benevolent countenance then; but how hard he breathes, he's heaving himself; get off, Queequeg, you are heavy, it's grinding the face of the poor. Get off, Queequeg! Look, he'll twitch you off soon. I wonder he don't wake."
As the boy started off Elhannon called: "Look here, dood, don't drive that horse over any cows in the road." Old man Saylor laughed and called back: "You and I are too old to law; you settle with old man Samuels for his horse and we'll call it square. You and the old woman come down to the fair and stop with us." "All right, Sim Saylor; I'll be thar; so long and good luck." Seeing Italy at Mrs.
The temptation to avail himself of the chance, however, was almost too much for him. Feeling that an internal conflict was pending, he toddled to the fire, turned his back to it a la paterfamilias, and glared at the tub, resolved, come what might, to be "dood." But fate was against him! Suddenly he became aware that something more than radiated heat was operating in rear. He glanced behind.
"Hey!" squawked Hans. "Who threw me at dot brick? Vos dot der vay you vill dood us upness? Py Chiminy! You fellers vant to vade right in und let it try you. I pelief ve can play paseball all aroundt yoursellufs. You vos challenched to meet us a game into. Yah! Vill you exception dot challench?" "Where's the interpreter?" asked Spark. "Der vot?" "The interpreter." "Vot you vant py him?"
I'm goin' t' give 'em away; I'm goin' to make a Chris'mas present of 'em to Shaver. They're goin' to be little Shaver's right here, all orderly an' peace'ble, or I'll tromp on 'em! Looky here, Shaver, wot Santy Claus brought ye!" "Nice dood Sant' Claus!" cried Billie, diving under the davenport in quest of the wandering chicks. Silence held the grown-ups.
"Oh, no never," replied Tony, adopting that shocked tone and look which Elsie was in the habit of using when anything wicked was propounded to her; "dey's always dood, like Josuf an' Abel an' Sam'l, an' Cain, an' David, an' Saul " Tony stopped short, with an indistinct idea that he was mixing pattern characters.
He would have welcomed anything just then. "Tiss me, ittle boy," urged Marion. She had him by the coat now with both hands, drawing him down to her. There was nothing for him to do. He must go through the ordeal. Suddenly he bent his head and shut his eyes. His face came close to hers; he felt her lips touch his cheek, and heard her childish laugh of delight. "Dood ittle boy!" she exclaimed.
Straight toward Katy she went, and with her small hands behind her back and her blue eyes fixed full on Katy's face, repeated with the utmost solemnity the following "poem:" "I'm a messender, you see, Fwom Hymen's Expwess Tumpany. All these little bundles are For my Aunty Taty Tarr; If she knows wot's dood for her She will tiss the messender."
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