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"B'soir, Monsieur le Colonel," he said, touching his skull-cap, "the water is very low. You fren'," he added, turning to me, "he stay long time in St. Louis?" "He is going away to-night, in an hour or so," I answered, with thanksgiving in my heart. "I am sorry," said Monsieur Lenoir, politely, but his looks belied his words. "He is ver' fond Suzanne. Peut etre he marry her, but I think not.

It was a voice, sounding ghostly in the whispering canes, from an invisible yet very close speaker. "You no go, sar. Go back. Fren' for you say it." "Now by James, that's enough!" swore the sailor, leaping straight in the direction of the voice. "Come out here and let's see who's running this Pepper's Ghost hoodle!" With the challenge he pulled his pistol. He found nothing and nobody.

"My fren' Cap'n Puffin," he said, "is a man of strictly 'stemious habits. Boys together. Very serious thing to call a man of my fren's character drunk. If you call him drunk, why shouldn't he call you drunk? Can't take away man's character like that." "Abso " began Captain Puffin. Then he stopped and pulled himself together. "Absolooly," he said without a hitch.

"Yes," answered Lizzie. Something in Lizzie's expression, in her tone, roused Becky's wandering memory, and with a sudden flash of her old mischief she said, "He's a fren' o' mine. Show up, Tim, and lemme interduce yer."

Remember who she is. She has friends powerful enough to avenge her if you dare to injure her." "You arra mistake," said Girasole, politely. "Se is mine, not yours. I am her best fren. Se is fiancée to me. I save her life tell her my love make a proposezion. Se accept me. Se is my fiancée. I was oppose by you. What else sall I do? I mus haf her. Se is mine. I am an Italiano nobile, an' I love her.

"Sam was awf'ly fond flowersh." "Get away 'ome, or the Johns'll pinch yer," said Jonah. Dad stopped and stared at him with a glimmering of reason in his fuddled brain. "I know yoush," he cried, with a cunning leer. "An' I know your fren' there. She isn't yer missis. She never is, y' know. Naughty boy!" he cried, wagging his finger at Jonah; "but I wont split on pal."

'I thought ye never let anybody in that wasn't particularly particular. No foot-passengers eh? 'Hoot, my lord! that's twa year ago. Gin I had jaloosed him to be a fren' o' yer lordship's, forby bein' a lord himsel', ye ken as weel 's I du that I wadna hae sent him ower the gait to Luckie Happit's, whaur he wadna even be ower sure o' gettin' clean sheets.

But it is not from the laughers alone that the philosophy of history is to be learned. And he who approaches this subject should carefully guard against the influence of that potent ridicule which has already misled so many excellent writers. "Ecco il fonte del riso, ed ecco il rio Che mortali perigli in se contiene: Hor qui tener a fren nostro desio, Ed esser cauti molto a noi conviene."

The constable had been discursive, voluminous, in his entertaining. Time was as nothing. He borrowed generously of to-morrow and even the next day. He became suddenly quite fond of this quiet, gentlemanly chap opposite him, who said little, but seemed to be a prince of good fellows. "'S this way," said the constable, leaning forward and waving his cigar. "You're fren' of mine sure thing.

"Shall we get anyshing t' drink?" inquired Abe making a temporary collection of his wits with a violent effort. "Abe!" the freezing severity of Kent's tone and manner would have been hopelessly fatal to early vegetables. "Abe you've many good qualities more of 'em shan any man I know. but a degrading passion fur shtrong drink is ruinin' you. I'm your besht fren, an' shay it wish tearsh in m' eyes.