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"All right all right drive me crazy because he's got a birthday." "Leon baby if you don't stop hollering you'll make yourself sick. Abrahm, I never saw him like this he's green " "I'll green him. Where is that old feedle from Isadore that seventy-five-cents one?" "I never thought of that! You broke it that time you got mad at Isadore's lessons. I'll run down.
O how heartily I shall love it! I do already dote upon it; for it will be my dainty feedle- darling, my genteel dilly-minion.
But Fiddlin' Jack lived on in the little house with the curved roof, beside the river, refusing all the good offers which were made to him for his piece of land. "NON," he said; "what for shall I sell dis house? I lak' her, she lak' me. All dese walls got full from museek, jus' lak' de wood of dis violon. He play bettair dan de new feedle, becos' I play heem so long.
It ain't enough that right to-morrow I got a fifty-dollar note over me from Sol Ginsberg; a four-dollar present she wants for a child that don't even know the name of a feedle." "Leon, baby, stop hollering. Papa will go back and get the fiddle for you now before supper. See, mamma's got money here in her waist "
Take him and here you got back his birthday dollar. A feedle! Honest when I think on it a feedle!" Such a rush of outrage seemed fairly to strangle Mr. Kantor that he stood, hand still upraised, choking and inarticulate above the now frankly howling huddle of his son. "Abrahm you should just once touch this child! How he trembles!
But it was a great day when he was eight years old, and Jacques brought out a small fiddle, for which he had secretly sent to Albany, and presented it to the boy. "You see dat feedle, Billee? Dat's for you! You mek' your lesson on dat. When you kin mek' de museek, den you play on de violon lak' dis one listen!"
"He playa de organ, me seeng, me feedle, de monk' he dance and bring in mon'. Monk' los', Petri keel me." "The monkey is dead." The words escaped her lips before she thought, but the frozen horror on the boy's face brought her to her senses, and she hastily cried, "But he was so sick and hurt! His back was just a mess of solid sores. It is better that he is dead!" "Oh, but Petri keel me!" "Sh!
Her hands and her forearms instantly out from the business of kneading something meaty and floury, Mrs. Kantor rushed forward, her glance quick from one to the other of them. "Abrahm, what's wrong?" "I'll feedle him! I'll feedle him!" The little pulling wrist still in clutch, Mr.
I could potch him again this minute for how he wanted it! Du you little bum you chammer momser I'll feedle you!" Across Mrs. Kantor's face, as she knelt there in the shapeless cotton-stuff uniform of poverty, through the very tenement of her body, a light had flashed up into her eyes.
I had a letter from Jem Ballantyne, plague on him! full of remonstrance, deep and solemn, upon the carelessness of Bonaparte. The rogue is right too. But as to correcting my style to the "Jemmy jemmy linkum feedle" tune of what is called fine writing, I'll be d d if I do.
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