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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Aw, Looey, I only said these guys were good-lookin'. Ain't no fight in words like that." "You heard the orders this morning. Let Lourenço do the talking. That goes! We're skating on thin ice so thin that if it breaks we drop plump into hell. Less noise!" "Right, sir," was the sulky answer. "I'm deaf and dumb." "March," added McKay.
The only two other people who had noticed her particularly were those old acquaintances, Mr. Purcey and Mr. Stone. Mr. Purcey had thought, 'Rather a good-lookin' girl, and his eyes strayed somewhat continually in her direction. There was something piquant and, as it were, unlawfully enticing to him in the fact that she was a real artist's model. Mr. Stone's way of noticing her had been different.
As the guard's van came up he leaped after the magnificent guard into his private apartment and shut the door. "Hallo! Davy Blunt, somethin' up?" asked the guard. "Yes, Joe Turner, there is somethin' up," replied the acute man, leaning against the brake-wheel. "You saw that tall good-lookin' feller wi' the eyeglass and light whiskers?" "I did.
And ever sence I've been sartin as I'm alive that the feller I marry will be of a rank higher'n mine and dark complected and good-lookin' and distinguished, and that he'll be name of Butler. "'Butler? says I. 'What will he be named Butler for? "''Cause the Seer critter said so. He said he could see the word Butler printed out over the top of my head in flamin' letters.
And I do believe I could drink a whole bottle of champagne. Mat. I don't know what one of those things tastes like scarce one; and I don't believe you do either. Sus. Don't I? I never did taste champagne, but I've seen them eating lobster-salad many a time; girls not half so good-lookin' as you or me, Mattie, and fine gentlemen a waitin' upon 'em. Oh dear! I am so hungry!
Thar's a smooth, good-lookin' stranger who's camped at a table near. Final, he yawns like he's shore weary of life an' looks at us sharp an' cur'ous. Then he speaks up gen'ral as though he's addressin' the air. "This is a mighty dull town!" he says. "Which I've been yere a fortnight an' I ain't had no fight as yet." An' he continyoos to look us over plenty mournful.
"'Never you mind, skipper, says the cook. 'If 'tis anything in the shape o' woman, says he, ''twill do. "'I 'low that Liz Jones would take you, cook, says the skipper. 'You ain't much on wits, but you got a good-lookin' hull; an' I 'low she'd be more'n willin' t' skipper a craft like you. You better go ashore, cook, when you gets cleaned up, an' see what she says.
"Wal, I am, Huldy!" said the good farmer, laying aside his paper and rubbing his hands with an air of pleasurable anticipation. "'Pears to me we left that good-lookin' singin' chap what was his name?" "Allan-a-Dale!" said Hilda, smiling. "Ah!" said the farmer; "Allan-a-Dale. 'Pears to me we left him in rayther a ticklish situation."
"I noticed you was talkin' to Dixie Hart at the fence," he said, as he discarded his quid of tobacco and stroked his grizzled chin, on which a week-old beard grew. "Well, if I wasn't no older'n you are, an' was as good-lookin', which maybe I ain't, I'd chin 'er over the fence mornin', noon, and night married or unmarried.
Well, I fancy it's not breakin' my word to tell ye that no, he's got a little gal, an adopted daughter, livin' with him." "Is she good-lookin'?" inquired Bounce quickly, with a sharp glance at the youth. March looked a little confused, and, in a hesitating manner, admitted that she was. "Ah!
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