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Updated: June 22, 2025
Sacre, she was fine-lookin' girl, but," shrugging his shoulders, "'t is the Capitaine, not ze mate, who may admire." I turned on the fellow, my blood boiling. "What do you mean by that! That Henley will dare intrude himself?" "Sacre, an' why not, M'sieur! He is ze Capitaine; nobody tell him not on ze Sea Gull. I know him seek, eight year, an' he devil with women.
We have now an opportunity to do this in the case of our young friend an' fellow-citizen, Mr. Williams, whose eloquent an' fine-lookin' letter ought to make us feel proud of him an' of our race. "Of co'se there are two sides to the question. We have got to consider the claims of Miss Noble.
Is this a fire 'r a dam livin' pitcher? I'll break ivry man iv eighteen, four, six, an' chem'cal five to-morrah mornin' befure breakfast." Oh, he says, bringin' his fist down, 'wan more, an' I'll quit. "An' he did, Jawn. Th' day th' Carpenter Brothers' box factory burnt. 'Twas wan iv thim big, fine-lookin' buildings that pious men built out iv celluloid an' plasther iv Paris.
Bimeby, when I went out to look, I found other things." "My poor papa!" said Star, with an air of great satisfaction. The Captain nodded. "Yer poor pa," he said, "and two others with him. How did I know he was your poor pa? Along of his havin' your poor ma's pictur hung round his neck. And a fine-lookin' man he was, to be sure!" "And his name was 'H. M.!" cried the child, eagerly.
"D'you remember him at Father's funeral? without his hat, and his head in the clouds. Fine-lookin' chap, old Tod pity he's such a child of Nature." Felix said quietly: "If you'd offered him a partnership, Stanley it would have been the making of him." "Tod in the plough works? My hat!" Felix smiled. At sight of that smile, Stanley grew red, and John refilled his pipe.
She and her husband lived happy and respectable, with no notion of anythink wrong, till a feller a blessed feller," grandma waxed fierce, "that was only sellin' things and making a living out of honest folk, come to town an' turned her head. I won't say but he was a fine-lookin' man, had a grand flowin' beard," grandma spread her hands out on her chest.
"You ain't something to write home about yore own self. I can button up my vest and look respectable, but they's hayseeds and shuttlin's all over you, and besides I got a necktie, and yore handkerchief is so sloshed up you can't tie it round yore neck. Yo're a fine-lookin' specimen to go a-visitin'. A fi-ine-lookin' specimen. And anyway yo're drunk. You can't go."
"I reckon you think a fine-lookin' rose like that ought to have a fine-soundin' name. But I never saw anybody yet that knew enough about roses to tell what its right name is.
"She made no mention o' you, or anybody else at all, as I knows on," returned the sailor firmly, "an' as my orders was to Peter the Great, an' as this seems to be him, from Sally's description a monstrous big, fine-lookin' nigger, with a lively face I'll say my say to him alone, with your leave."
No doubt the same gentleman and lady who had passed him an hour earlier, going in a contrary direction. He watched them as they passed him again, repeating his reflection that they were a "fine-lookin' couple" no doubt sweethearts. What else should bring a young man and a young woman riding in Lathom Woods at that time in the morning? "Never seed 'em doin' it before, anyways."
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