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"Good morning, Judge Wilson," replied Mary Ellen, as she entered the car. "Good morning, Dr. Gregg." The gentlemen made way for her upon the shady side of the car, and lifted their hats ceremoniously. "L'il late this mawnin', Miss Beecham, seems like," said the judge, with no trace of resentment in his tones. Dr.
"Why, Worthyvale, what's the matter?" asked my father, soothingly. "My l'il heap o' stones, Sir John; my poor l'il heap o' stones! What's to become o' me, master? Where will your kindness find a bellyful for me, if these murderin' seamen take away my l'il heap o' stones?" My father laid a hand on the old man's shoulder. "Captain Pomery wants them for ballast, Worthyvale. You understand?
The taxi stopped before a vaguely lighted saloon on Fifty-ninth Street east of Fifth Avenue. McKay opened his eyes, looked around him in the bitter darkness, stumbled out into the snow on Brown's arm. "A quiet, cosy little cafe," said Brown, "where I don't mind joining you in something hot before dinner." "Thasso? Fine! Hot Scotch we' good 'n'cold day. We'll havva l'il drink keep us warm 'n'snug."
The bouncer released his hold on Peter, who, adopting a ludicrous air of extreme cunning, rushed immediately around to the other table, where he burst into derisive laughter and thumbed his nose at the exasperated waiters. "Think I just better wait a l'il longer," he announced. The chase began. Four waiters were sent around one way and four another.
So Snap began to paw aside the hay, just as Bert was doing, and while boy and dog were doing this into the barn came fat Dinah, with Nan running ahead of her. "Whut's dish yeah has happened, Bert? Whut's all dish yeah I heah Nan say?" demanded the black cook. "Whut you done gone an' done to yo' l'il broth' an' sistah? De pooh l'il honey lambs!" "I didn't do anything!" declared Bert.
I asked, when everything was ready and each of us had our snack of food. "No," he answered. "Too hard to crawl like snake. They no see us to-day. We take l'il crack-crack." "Little crack-crack" meant an automatic revolver, greatly admired by Smilax and, since Tommy's coaching, handled by him with no mean skill.
"He had 'leven cents, an' he was talkin' 'bout Indians an' cowboys." "Yes, he's crazy about 'em," answered Bert. "We're going out West you know." "Is you?" asked the man, as the elevator went down. "Well, de West am a mighty big place. I suah hopes yo' l'il brother doan git lost in de big West."
Mariedetta recovered her water-jug and glided onward into the court in front of the cook-house, her face masklike, her movements deliberate as usual. Joy, spying the girl, grinned at her. She tossed her head coquettishly and her step slackened, whereupon the cook, with a sly glance around, tapped her gently on the arm, and said: "Nice l'il gally."
He felt, illuminatingly, that the thing to do was to cast a spell not only over the storekeeper but over all the customers as well and perhaps through the psychology of the herd instinct they would buy as an astounded and immediately convinced whole. "Af'ernoon," he began in a loud thick voice. "Ga l'il prop'sition." If he had wanted silence he obtained it.
"I was swinging on a rope, over the haymow, and so was Nan. And Flossie and Freddie were playing on the barn floor under the mow. I fell on the hay and so did Nan, and a whole lot of it slid down and fell on top of Flossie and Freddie and and now they're down under there, I guess!" "Good land ob massy!" exclaimed Dinah. "Dat suah is a lot to happen to mah poor l'il lambkins! Where is you, Flossie?
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