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The girls came down crisp and fresh in their ruffled frocks, with curls smoothed, sashes tied, and their company dolls in their hands. "Now sit down and be comfortable," said Mrs. Frisbie. Dear me, what a number of meanings there are to that word "comfortable"! Mrs. Frisbie thought it meant pretty clothes, pretty rooms, and nothing to do.
"Now what do I do this for?" exclaims Frisbie, vexed at himself the instant he has spoken. And he frowns, and blows his nose furiously. "It's because I am too good-natured, altogether!" "No, no, Sir, I beg your pardon!" says Mr. Williams, his heart all aglow with gratitude. "To be kind and merciful to the poor, that isn't to be too good-natured, Sir!" "Well, well!
Then he tried a little shot in the dark. "The president's car is just below at the basin switch. He wants to have it taken to the front, and I have been trying to dissuade him. Is the track safe for it?" Frisbie guessed what kind of answer was desired, and stretched the truth a little. "I should say not. It's something fierce, even for the construction trains." Miss Alicia's smile was seraphic.
There was a fuss betwixt Major-General Tommy Drake and Lieutenant-Colonel Agnes Frisbie, and he snatched her doll away, which is made of white kid stuffed with sawdust, and tore every rag of its clothes off, right before them all, and is under arrest, and the charge is conduct un " "Yes, I know conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman a plain case, too, it seems to me.
Your coming or the president's has reformed things wonderfully. Frisbie says but never mind what he says: the miracle has been wrought." He said it with such an evident air of dejection that she wondered. And with Miss Alicia Adair the step from wonderment to investigation was always short. "You say it as if you were sorry," she said. "Are you?" "Oh, no; I'm glad for your sake.
It's a r'al good place!" says the youth. "But a'n't you ashamed to live with niggers?" "Ashamed? What for? Nobody else was good to me. But they was good to me. I a'n't ashamed." The Frisbie color heightens more and more. He looks at that wretched dwelling, he glances aside at Mr.
"To the queen's taste, I should say," was the secretary's not too deferential reply. "Ford's out of the way, to be gone ten days or a fortnight, and Frisbie has gone back to dicker with MacMorrogh, and to survey the new route up Horse Creek. Ford doesn't know; I doubt if he will ever know until we spring the trap on him.
The viscount looked relieved of a great fear. He saw the great disturbance of his servant's face, but ascribed it to the effect of his interview with the condemned man, and sympathy for his awful position, and he inquired: "How did Frisbie look, Cuthbert?" "Like a ghaist; na less! pale as deeth; trembling like a leaf about to fa'! and waefully distraught in his mind!"
Now, go upstairs and tell Justine to put on your French cambrics and your sashes, and when you're ready come straight down. I want you." Mrs. Frisbie went into the drawing-room as she spoke, and shut the door behind her with a little bang. She was a good-natured woman in the main, but at that moment she was really put out. Why should her children have this outlandish taste for cooking and washing?
She knew that the dying confession of Frisbie would seal Lord Vincent's fate. And she contemplated that fate as she had never done before. Penal servitude. Why it had seemed a mere, empty phrase until now. Now it was an appalling reality brimful of horror, even for the coarsest, dullest, and hardest criminal; but of how much more for him.
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