But tell me, you are married? Children? Yes! Goodt! And how oldt are you now?" "It makes me seventeen to see you, Lindau, but I've got a son nearly as old." "Ah, ha, ha! Goodt! And where do you lif?"

True, I am not reco'nize on the parade; that my frien's who come here do not present me to their ladies; that Meestaire Nash has reboff' me in the pomp-room; still, am I not known for being hones' and fair in my play, and will I not be belief, even I, when I lif' my voice and charge you aloud with what is already w'isper'? Think of it!

But tell me, you are married? Children? Yes! Goodt! And how oldt are you now?" "It makes me seventeen to see you, Lindau, but I've got a son nearly as old." "Ah, ha, ha! Goodt! And where do you lif?"

Lif' up your right hand an' an' shwear to take care of Dennie, or I'll kill you!" Bond insisted. He was a large, muscular man, towering over the slender young professor like a very giant, and in his eyes there was a cruel gleam. Vincent Burgess was at the limit of mental resistance. Lifting his shapely right hand in the shadowy light, he said wearily: "I swear it!"

Said Felix Adler to his hemlock-spruce, "Vivat, crescat, floreat"; and a sentiment much like it was implied in Sol Smith Russell's words to the grove's master as they finished putting in his linden together for he was just then proposing to play Rip Van Winkle, which Joseph Jefferson had finally decided to produce no more: "Here's to your healt', undt der healt' of all your family; may you lif long undt brosper."

Der liddle brudders an' sisters go to school, vear good clothes, haf better pread an' meat; der mudder lif fat, dere iss joy in der eye, an' she iss proud of her good boy Joe. "But he haf der beautiful body ach, Gott, der beautiful body! stronger as der ox, k-vicker as der tiger-cat, der head cooler as der ice-box, der eyes vat see eferytings, k-vick, just like dat.

I reckon I kin git on widout it." Malachi had his head in his hands now, his body swaying from side to side. Oliver stood silent. "When he come home de udder day an' I lif' him in de bed, he say, 'Don't you strain yo'se'f, Malachi. 'Member, you ain't spry as you was. Oh, Gawd! Oh, Gawd! What's Malachi gwine to do?" Oliver sat down beside him. There was nothing to say.

"A flash ob lightenin' what cl'ar par'lyzed me an' helt ma feet fast to de floo'! Den, befo' I could get 'em loosen' dat hant jist lif' his hoof yas ma'am, dat was a hoof, not no man's foot an' I 'clar cross ma heart he done hist me froo dat do' an' cl'ar down dem stairs. He want no man. He de debbil hissef. No siree, yo' ain' gettin' me back up dem stairs twell some white folks gwine fust.

"My mudder, she was good woman. I am glad she did not lif to know what Fadette do." His eyes drank her in for a minute, then he said: "I go sleep now, t'ank you till moontime." In a moment his deep breathing filled the room, the only sound save for the fire within and the frost outside. Time went on. The night deepened.

To know de tepths of sorrow, to cry mit tears of blood, to mount up in der hefn dat is mein lot! I shall not lif after Bons " "Gracious! I am sure you won't, you are killing yourself. Listen, pet!" "Bet?" "Very well, my sonny " "Zonny?" "My lamb, then, if you like it better." "It is not more clear."