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Updated: June 11, 2025
Billy was enjoying herself hugely. "A ma-an!" "Yes; a great big man with a brown beard. He's waiting now with John and I must go." "But, Billy, I don't understand," chattered an agitated voice over the line. "He he called himself 'Mary Jane. He hasn't any business to be a big man with a brown beard! What shall we do? We don't want a big man with a brown beard here!" Billy laughed roguishly.
Ralph ran over this brief summary of Kate's condition as if it were merely passing through his own mind, and he had no intention to speak aloud; but the shrewd sly look which he directed at his companion as he delivered it, gave this poor assumption the lie. 'I tell you I only want to see her, cried his client. 'A ma-an may look at a pretty woman without harm, mayn't he? Now, where DOES she live?
Rowcliffe drew up the sheet and covered it. "You'd better come out of this. It isn't good for you," he said. "I knaw what's good for me, Dr. Rawcliffe." Jim stuck his hands in his breeches and gazed stubbornly at the sheeted mound. "Come," Rowcliffe said, "don't give way like this. Buck up and be a man." "A ma-an? You wait till yor turn cooms, doctor."
An' why shudden't he be with thim two names? They'se pothry in both iv thim. Fitz-Hugh Lee! Did ye iver see a pitcher iv him? A fat ma-an, with a head like a football an' a neck big enough to pump blood into his brain an' keep it fr'm starvin'. White-haired an' r-red-faced. Th' kind iv ma-an that can get mad in ivry vein in his body.
We crossed the Ma-An Shan Pass, about ten thousand feet high, by the middle of the forenoon, having climbed more than five thousand feet since leaving Lu Ting Ch'iao. Just before reaching the top we descended into a cup-like hollow, a huge dimple lined with the rich greens and gay reds of the rhododendron, and merry with the babble of many tiny waterfalls.
Solmes at the Ranger's Lodge, a mile distant, said to her old husband: "Thou'rt a bad ma-an, Stephen, to leave thy goon about lwoaded, and the vary yoong boy handy to any mischief. Can'st thou not bide till there coom time for the lwoadin' of it?" Said old Stephen sharply, "Gwun, wench? There be no gwun. 'Tis a roifle!
Mammy, se shops is so bootiful! Will 'oo take Ma-an to see dem? 'nother day, yes 'nother day." "Daddy will take Marian to see the shops," said the dying mother, in labouring tones. "Mammy going to Jesus. Jesus will take care of mother's little lamb." The mother's lips were pressed in a last lingering kiss upon the face of her child, and then Marian was carried downstairs.
"I'm as good a ma-an as he is anny day. I'll have no man rob me." "But he wouldn't rob you," said Mr. McKenna. "Think of the purchasing power: you've got to always figure that out. A dollar you'd get then would be worth only half as much as it's worth now. It'd be a dollar like they run through the ringer down in Mexico."
Marian gave a decided shake of her head. "No; Ma-an going away. Tum another time." Then, murmuring to herself, "Me lun away," she set off down the street, with a defiant swagger of her small person, and her bonnet-strings streaming out upon the wind; and the little huckster watched her with an admiring gaze, little thinking into what wilds of sorrow those tiny twinkling feet had set off to run.
I passed the night in the guardroom, chilled and wet, and now and then light-headed. Had I been at head-quarters the colonel would undoubtedly have sent me to the infirmary, which was the proper place for me. The lisping captain sent me to the cells. 'Ma-an, he said, in a drawl which half the regiment used to loathe and imitate, 'what have you to tha-ay?
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