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Updated: May 31, 2025
"How can I thank you, Pete!" she exclaimed softly, and her smile transformed her pale face into something heavenly to look upon. Her eyes poured gratitude into his dull ones and his face crimsoned. "Keep away," was all he said. Carder appeared, as it seemed, up through the ground, and the dwarf rubbed his face and neck with a rough, grimy towel. "Good-mornin'," said Rufus in his harsh voice.
"Good-mornin', Miss Norah," we will suppose him to say, when meeting a good-looking arch girl of his acquaintance. "Good-morrow, Mr. O'Shaughnessy. I hope you're well, sir." "Indeed I am, at present, in superlatively ecclesiastical health, Miss Norah. I hope all your family are well?" "All very well, I thank you, sir, barrin' myself." "An' pray what's the matther wid you, Miss Norah?
He was strong in his manhood, and would have stood unabashed before a king. Such was the man who was to mortify the pride of Fitzgerald Fletcher. Tom Carver watched for his arrival in Centreville, and walking up to his cart, accosted him. "Good-morning, Mr. Bickford." "Good-mornin', young man. You've got the advantage of me. I never saw you before as I know of."
Me and Woods often says we'll take this or that little Dexter's Oak, but it's most times forgot, for Woods is 'alf crazed, Miss Dexter, and I've got to do the whole. Good-mornin'." Having adjusted her bonnet and the donkey-cart to her satisfaction, Mrs. Woods drove off rather disappointed on the whole at Miss Dexter's calm demeanour.
These were strangers to the dale and less reticent than the men from the farms. "Good-mornin', shipperd. Thou'll be noan sae pleased to set een on us wallers, I reckon," one of them would say. "Good-mornin'," Peregrine would reply. "I weant say that I's fain to see you, but I've no call to threap wi' waller-lads.
Abel put your legs down! throw that cigar away!" The great man came in. His clothes were snuffy and baggy so was his face. "Good-mornin', Mr. Newt. Beautiful mornin'. I sez to ma this mornin', ma, sez I, I should like to go to the country to-day, sez I. Go 'long; pa! sez she. Werry well, sez I, I'll go 'long if you'll go too. Ma she laughed; she know'd I wasn't in earnest.
"You are right," said he, in a voice so changed, she looked anxiously in his white face, working like that of a man in a fit. "I was a fool a while ago. I know better now. But I won't take the notes, my lady. Thank ye kindly just the same. I'll wish ye good-mornin' now. O, no! Make yourself easy. I'll never ask to see ye again."
As he drew near at a trot he eyed Geake curiously, and for a moment seemed inclined to pull up, but thought better of it, and was passing with no more than a nod of the head and "good-day." It was unusual, though, to see Long Oliver driving a horse and trap; and Geake, moreover, had a sudden notion. "Good-mornin'," he answered; "whither bound?" "St. Austell.
I didn't think Cousin Fitz would be so stuck up, just because his father's made some money. Good-mornin'!" "Three cheers for Fitz's cousin!" shouted Tom. They were given with a will, and Mr. Bickford made acknowledgment by a nod and a grin. "Remember me to your mother when you write, Cousin Fitz," he said at parting. Fitz was too angry to reply.
Rockefeller, decided upon Mr. Astor, and gave a number to a priceless Central who was promptness itself, who never rang the wrong bell, or reported a busy wire, or cut him off in the midst of an engrossing conversation. This morning, as usual, he got his number at once. "Good-mornin', Mister Astor!" he hailed breezily. "This is Johnnie Smith. 'Oh, good-mornin', Mister Smith! How are y'? I'm fine!
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