"What in the world has happened? Is it goin' up to Brophys' ye are? I hope herself's not sick or anything." "Not at all; but Dan looked in on his way from town, an' says he, 'I've a letther in my pocket that the postmisthress is afther givin' me, an' it's from America, he says, 'but I'm sure I couldn't tell ye who wrote it, says he.

"You must," commanded Miss Allen under her breath. "Keeves might hear." "What if she does! As likely as not she herself's in the way," said Miss Potter. Mavis, who had been trying not to listen to the previous conversation, felt both hot and cold at the same time. The blood rushed to her head. The next moment she sprang out of bed.

"Herself's not fery hungry, but a little thirsty," said Donald, flinging himself down on a seat in a free-and-easy way, with his legs astride, so as to allow free suspension to his huge goat-skin purse, and doffing his bonnet, and wiping the perspiration from his forehead "Herself's no fery hungry, but a little thirsty; and she'll teukit, if you please, a fery small drop of whisky and water."

Andrew Tooke pictures Envy as a vile female: A deadly paleness in her cheek was seen; Her meager skeleton scarce cased with skin; Her looks awry; an everlasting scowl Sits on her brow; her teeth deform'd and foul; Her breast had gall more than her breast could hold; Beneath her tongue coats of poison roll'd; No smile e'er smooth'd her furrow'd brow but those Which rose from laughing at another's woes; Her eyes were strangers to the sweets of sleep, Devouring spite for ever waking keep; She sees bless'd men with vast success crown'd, Their joys distract her, and their glories wound; She kills abroad, herself's consum'd at home, And her own crimes are her perpetual martyrdom.

By gad, you're doin it well. But I say, who the devil are you?" "I'm Willie' the Waster, kind young gentleman, and I'm residin' under No. 3 wharf, fifth plank from the corner. Would yer give er trifle towards me time-payment furniture, please, sir." Romeo contributed a shilling. "You're a sport," he said. "They're all on to you. Dolly herself's delighted.

"Why, they're so proud, they can't look down upon their own shoes: and as for Brierley's wenches, if a fellow offers to speak to 'em, they'll snap his head off. And Martha herself's so fine that the likes of me's afraid to walk on the same side of the road for fear of treading on her shadow." "Well, Alice, I've oft abused 'em all myself; but I were wrong all the time. And you're wrong, Alice, too.

He allowed her to kiss him and to carry him, clothed, back to the house on her shoulders, which were as hard as a cedar trunk, but covered with green cloth sprinkled with purple dots. "And herself's in the libr'y drinkin' tea," said his vehicle, depositing him on the veranda. "An' what might that be you'd be holdin'?" "Just a rattle off a snake."

"I see the specklety pullet's after strayin' on you agin," he said; "herself's the conthrary little bein'; I must take a look about for her prisintly." "Ah, sure she's sold," said his mother; "it's too many I had altogether. I was torminted thryin' to git feedin' for them. So I sold her this mornin' to Mrs. Dunne at Loughmore, that gave me a fine price for her.

An' ye bees travellin' all over it, and herself's such a great State, wid so many great gintlemen in it," said Dunn, talking his green-island Greek to the Frenchman. "We, we! mon Dieu, ah!" said the Frenchman. "Ah, shure there ye are again. What would I be doin' wid de 'hole o' yees? It's the nager I want.