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"Don't cry!" begged her brother. "I'll make a fire and we'll eat some more crackers. I'll go get them from under the stump." "I'll go with you," declared Flossie, firmly, "I'm not going to stay alone." Together they pulled out some of the lunch they had found in the balloon basket.
"I can't make you believe that I'm not cross at all," he said. "No, you can't. Paddy!" Her voice had a coaxing note as she said his name. "Yes." "Come to lunch with me. Jimphy's gone off for the day somewhere...." "I'm sorry!..." "Do come, Paddy. I want you to come. I do, really!" He paused for a second or two before he replied. After all why should he not go?...
Bring your clubs. You'll be able to play in the afternoons. Get through serious work by lunch time." "You know," I said, "I am absolutely inexperienced as regards fowls. I just know enough to help myself to bread sauce when I see one, but no more." "Excellent! You're just the man. You will bring to the work a mind unclouded by theories. You will act solely by the light of your intelligence.
And it was arranged that there would be a big lunch every day, to be held in Smith's caff, round the corner of Smith's Northern Health Resort and Home of the Wissanotti Angler, you know the place. The lunch was divided up into tables, with a captain for each table to see about things to drink, and of course all the tables were in competition with one another.
Besides, she was wondering how a man with the fight of his life on his hands could find time to lunch downtown even with Stella. "I've taken quite a fancy to you," pressed Stella. "Thank you, it's very kind of you," Constance answered. "I shall try very hard to be there." "I'll leave a box for you at the office. Come around after the performance to my dressing room."
I'm hollow as a hound what's been on a hunt. Good thing Christmas don't come but once a year. You can cut out lunch better'n anything else for a save-up, though. That girl over there" he pointed his finger behind him "ain't had nothing but a glass of milk for a month. She's got some kiddie brothers and sisters, and they're bound to have Christmas, she says. Rough day, ain't it?"
"He came in to lunch one day last week and asked me then. He's earning very good money. He makes seven pounds a week now and he's got prospects." Philip was silent again. He remembered that she had always liked Miller; he amused her; there was in his foreign birth an exotic charm which she felt unconsciously. "I suppose it was inevitable," he said at last.
As she took lessons in painting, she was called an artist, and only imagine, that quite suited her, though she had not the slightest trace of talent. She would sleep every day till two or three o'clock; she had her coffee and lunch in bed.
During the repast, both put their names to a subscription to erect a monument commemorating the victory of their ancestor. The 14th of September, the city offered a ball to Madame and Mademoiselle. The little Princess danced two quadrilles. The 15th, she offered lunch to a great number of children of her own age, and afterward went with them to the theatre.
They paddled on up the river, the dusky Indians now and then breaking out into a chant that seemed to give their muscles new energy. The song, if song it was, passed from one boat to the other, and as the chant boomed forth the craft shot ahead more swiftly. They made a landing about noon, and lunch was served. Tom and his friends were hungry in spite of the heat.
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