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Updated: June 1, 2025
"Just another, then, my dear. An' I've got your fav'rite sponge cake, Miss Norah ten aigs in it!" "Ten!" said Norah faintly. "Hold me, daddy! Doesn't it make you feel light-headed to think of putting ten eggs in one cake again?" "An' why not?" sniffed Brownie. "Ah, you got bad treatment in that old England.
An' as for old Arbroath, we'll be seein' big 'edlines in the papers by and by about 'Scandalous Conduck of a Clergyman with 'is Fav'rite Gel!" Here he made an effort to pull a grave face, but it was no use, his broad smile beamed out once more despite himself. "Arter all," he said, chuckling, "the two things does fit in nicely together an' nat'ral like 'Igh Jinks an' a fav'rite gel!"
"Ay, now there ye treads on my fav'rite corn!" and Peke shook his head with a curious air of petulance. "That's what I'm a-lookin' for day an' night, for the Wise One 'as got a bit in 'is book which 'e's cropped out o' another Wise One's savin's, a chap called Para-Cel-Sus" and Peke pronounced this name in three distinct and well-divided syllables.
O'er nullah and ditch, o'er hedge, fence, or bank, No matter, he'd clear it, aye in the front rank; A brave little hunter as ever was born Was my grand Arab fav'rite, my good 'Bonnie Morn. Or when in the 'ranks, who so steady and still? None better than 'Bonnie, more 'up' in his drill; His fine head erect eyes flashing with scorn Right fit for a charger was staunch 'Bonnie Morn.
Gunnill, almost without his knowledge, uttered a deprecatory cough. His daughter turned with alarming swiftness and, holding herself very upright, favoured him with a glance in which indignation and surprise were very fairly mingled. "That white one that one at the end," said Mr. Gunnill, with an appearance of concentrated interest, "that's my fav'rite."
They prefer th' bustle an' roar iv th' busy marts iv thrade, th' sthreet car, th' saloon on three corners an' th' church on wan, th' pa-apers ivry mornin' with pitchers iv th' s'ciety fav'rite that's just thrown up a good job at Armours to elope with th' well-known club man who used to be yard- masther iv th' three B's, G, L, & N., th' shy peek into th' dhry-goods store, an' other base luxuries, to a free an' healthy life in th' counthry between iliven P.M. an' four A.M. Wensdahs an' Sundahs.
I guess it's God's fav'rite veg'table; don't you, S'manthy? s' 'e. And when I was showin' him pictures last night, 'n' he see the crosses on top some o' the city meetin'-houses, s' 'e, 'They have two sticks on 'most all the churches, don't they, S'manthy?
"True for ye, Stiff, it was the fav'rite tipple o' me owld mother, an' I'm fond of it on that score, not to mention other raisins of a private natur'." "Couldn't ye make these reasons public?" said Walter. "Unpossible!" said Larry, with much gravity, as he helped himself to another can of tea. "Come, time's up," said Robin abruptly, as he rose to put on his snow-shoes.
"I'd like to find the joker who wrote it?" breathed 'Bias, the paper trembling between his hands. "I can't tell you who wrote it," said the ship-chandler; "but I can give a pretty close guess who's responsible for it: and that's Philp." "Philp?" "Mind ye, I say 'tis but a guess." "I'll Philp him!" "Well, he's no fav'rite o' mine," said Mr Rogers grinning.
Your mither was always my fav'rite, for A never could agree with Aadam. A like ye fine yoursel'; there's nae noansense aboot ye; ye've a fine nayteral idee of builder's work; ye've been to France, where, they tell me, they're grand at the stuccy.
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