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"Honest I did get lost. I'm on my way to the Woolston mills, and I missed so many trains, and caught so many jitneys I lost count. Then, when I saw you come along I was so glad I almost well, I just flopped. I was dog-tired. First I hailed you, but you were dozing I guess, then I was scared to death you would jolt by and leave me, so I had to climb on."
I can't tell you chaps the whole story, but last spring he had a really bad jolt." "Well, what's he going to do?" Martin asked, somewhat impatiently. "I wish I knew," replied Dunn gloomily. "There seems nothing he can get here that's suitable. I'm afraid he will have to try the Colonies; Canada for preference." "Oh, I say, Dunn," exclaimed Martin, "it can't really be as bad as all that?"
That is how quite a lot of people seem to imagine national bankruptcy: as a catastrophic jolt. It is a quite impossible nightmare of cessation. The reality is the completest contrast. All the belligerent countries of the world are at the present moment quietly, steadily and progressively going bankrupt, and the mass of people are not even aware of this process of insolvency.
Glancing around to see if there was any way of saving anything else I again received a jolt by noticing that the fire was coming down a light shaft from an adjoining building and through an open window into the rear office of the "California's" office. In fact, furniture was already burning in the president's room. This was no place for me.
Three nights after he had been brought to Grant, he dressed and crept down the back stairs, and made his way to the railroad station. Twice he had heard the midnight freight stop and cut out cars on the siding. He hid in the shadows until the freight arrived. He climbed to an empty box-car and waited. Trainmen crunched past on the cinders. A jolt and he was swept away toward the west.
Lord Fontenoy ceased to talk; yet every now and then, as some jolt of the carriage made George open his eyes, he saw the broad-shouldered figure beside him, sitting in the same attitude, erect and tireless, the same half-peevish pugnacity giving expression to mouth and eye. "Come, wake up, Tressady! Here we are!" There was a vindictive eagerness in Fontenoy's voice.
The vehicles met on the road were a variety of the prairie schooner, long wagons with a top of hoops over which is stretched a cotton cloth. The wagons are without seats, and the canvas is too low to admit of sitting upright, if there were. The occupants crawl in at either end, sit or lie on the bottom of the wagon, and jolt along in shiftless uncomfortableness.
It is in the "History of a Crime" that he tells the story. He says that he was re-entering France by the Luxembourg frontier, and had fallen asleep in the coach. Suddenly the jolt of the train coming to a standstill awoke him. One of the passengers said: "What place is this?" Another answered "Sedan." With a shudder, Hugo looked around.
"What do you know about the graces of conversation? You are better fitted to talk of the disgraces of conduct." "Slow, John. But I know that a truth to be interesting must be whimsical or so blunt that it jolts." "But didn't it jolt you when I said that you must go into the office after the liquor?" "Yes; but cruelly, John. You must never jolt cruelly. I gad, I'm getting old.
Gid sat down with a jolt that jarred the windows, and she looked at him in alarm, fearing at the instant that death must have aimed a blow at him. "Camphor bottle!" he gasped. "Merciful heavens, ma'am, fill up your camphor bottle with my heart's blood!" At this distress the Major laughed, though more in sympathy than in mirth; and Mrs.
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