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Updated: May 25, 2025
Louis Epstein, a faithful replica of his mother, with close black hair that curled on his head like the nap of a Persian lamb, imprinted a large, moist kiss upon the maternal lips. "Hello, maw! Didn't you expect me?" "Not till the ten-o'clock train, Louie. How's papa?" "He'th fine. I left him billing thom goods to Thpokane." "How's business, Louie?"
"Now, you may not believe it," he said to the rest of the room, "but I should never have knowed this gentleman if I had met him anywhere off his own he'th he's altered so much." "You too have altered, and for the better, I think Timothy," said Yeobright, surveying the firm figure of Fairway. "Master Yeobright, look me over too.
"I believe he'th feared o' her," snapped the Deacon, "or he wudny-un went thae lamb-like!" "Leave him alone!" said Johnny Coe, who had been drinking too. "He's the only kind heart in Barbie. And Gourlay's the only gentleman." "Gentleman!" cried Sandy Toddle. "Lord save us! Auld Gourlay a gentleman!" "Yes, gentleman!" said Johnny, to whom the drink gave a courage.
"Butcher Tham 'th goin' ter kill 'im for uth," Julius Cæsar hastened to say, "an' I kin cook 'im." "No, you ain't. I'm goin' to cook 'im," Jericho Bob cried, resentfully. "He's mine." "He ain'th; he'th mine." "He was my egg," and Jericho Bob danced defiance at his friend.
"He'th found it," said Pip. Every sad face brightened. "No, I haven't, Pip!" exclaimed Sid. "But you thaid tho." "No, I meant that I knew what had become of it." "O! O!" said Pip. "But what hath become of it?" Sid here looked about him, to make sure that no one outside of the club was listening. "Well, boys, I think Tim Tyler took it" "What makes-you think so?" inquired the governor.
"Thee meanth Couthin Dick. He'th got Krithmath." "Where's your mother?" "Dead." "And your father?" "In orthpittal." There was a laugh somewhere on the outskirts of the crowd. Every one faced angrily in that direction, but the laugher had disappeared. Yuba Bill, however, sent his voice after him. "Yes, in hospital! Funny, ain't it? amoosin' place! Try it.
He can't climb it, Joan, he'th trying to pretend he can climb it when he can't. He knowth I can climb it, but I don't want to get my thingth methed." Joan smiled admiringly at Cuthbert. "I'll show you," said William desperately. "I'll just show you." He showed them. He climbed till the tree-top swayed with his weight, then descended, hot and triumphant.
'Bleth me bleth me my dear O'Flaherty, he'th very ill where ith the pain? 'Is it "farced pain," Puddock, or "gammon pain?" asked Devereux, with much concern.
Miss Porter nodded, and then throwing herself languidly upon the sofa, looked down the street, as if expecting some one. At last, supporting herself on her elbow, she lisped out, "I don't believe that he'th coming, for here 'tis after four!" "Tisn't likely he'll stay in the graveyard all night," returned Ella. "I wish we'd asked him whose graves he was going to visit, don't you?"
Why, that's him in blue and buff." "And a monthous fine man, too," said Cornet Fitch. "I wish we had him in our twoop he'th thix feet thwee, if he'th an inch; ain't he, Genewal?" No reply. "And heavens! Mamma," shrieked the three Gorgons in a breath, "see, one creature is on the whist-table. Oh, the wretch! "I'm sure he's very good-looking," said Lucy, simply.
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