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He had not noticed it when he came into the house: the kitchen door must have been shut, then. He looked up the stairs. He could discern that the door of Mrs. Tams's bedroom, at the top, was open, and that there was no light in the room. Puzzled, he rushed to the kitchen, and snatched at his hat as he went, sticking it anyhow on his head. "Eh, mester, what ever's amiss?"
"Why, Rebecca," said Phoebe, laughing, "do you suppose five miles is any worse than four? I guess we'd be killed by falling one mile jest as quick as five." "Quicker!" Droop exclaimed. "Considerable quicker, Cousin Rebecca, fer it would take us a good deal longer to fall five miles than it would one." "But what ever's the use o' keepin' on a-climbin'?"
He produced from the packages four bottles of champagne of four different brands, a quantity of pâté de foie gras, a jar of caviare, and several bunches of grapes that must have been grown under the most unnatural and costly conditions. "What ever's this?" Sissie demanded, uneasily. "Arthur!" said Eve. "Whatever's the meaning of this?" "It has a deep significance," replied Mr. Prohack.
The oddest thing of all was the big room in the middle. It had padded walls and a soft, thick carpet, and all the chairs and tables were padded. There wasn't a single thing in it that anyone could hurt itself with. 'What ever's this for? lunatics? asked Cyril. The lady looked very shocked. 'No! It's for the children, of course, she said.
Carried? cried Ivan Demianitch, seeing Fustov made no objection. 'Kolka, march into the study, and look sharp with the music-stand! Olga, this way with the zither! If you don't care for it, you must amuse yourself with conversation, only mind, not above a whisper! Ha, ha ha! But what ever's become of that silly chap, Viktor? He ought to be here to listen too!
And if Bellairs tries that trick again, I'll send my old woman and the baby to Mrs. Morton. That'll fix it." There was a roar of laughter. Then, "They are sure to hang him, I suppose?" "First hanging ever's been at Cacouna if they do." "I guess you'll be going to see him hung, eh, Clarkson?" "I reckon so; but it's time I was off."
One day when Henry was registering in the round-house, he saw a letter in the rack for him, and carried it home to read after supper. When he read it, he jumped out of his chair. "Why, Henry!" said his wife, putting down her knitting, "what ever's the matter, open switch or red light?" "Worse, Mary; it's the end of the track."
I'll scrub yer floor better'n she ever kin, an come to look it doos kinder need it," and she turned her agonized eyes a moment upon the floor in affected critical inspection. "Cephas, see that crowd comin. What do they mean? Put them women out. G'long there, git out, quick! Shut the door, Cephas. Put up the bar. What ever's comin to us?" Well might Mrs.
"Has your brother funked it again?" demanded Bramble, in his usual conciliatory way. "He never funked, you young cad!" retorted the young brother. "Yes, he did, didn't he, Padger? That time, you know, last term. But I say, Greenfield junior, why ever's the fight not coming off?"
We may arrange to have supper together, once in a while, and in case of severe weather, put the two fires goin' in one house, which ever's the warmest.
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