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Updated: June 24, 2025
"Murder!" said Long Jack. "Don't do that again, doctor. We ain't used to ut." "What's wrong?" said Dan. "Ain't he our mascot, and didn't they strike on good after we'd struck him?" "Oh! yess," said the cook. "I know that, but the catch iss not finish yet." "He ain't goin' to do us any harm," said Dan, hotly. "Where are ye hintin' an' edgin' to? He's all right." "No harm. No.
Connick shouted. "What do you mean by playin' peek-a-boo with your friends in that manner?" The moose uttered a hoarse whuffle. "This is Ben Bouncer, the mascot of Number 7 camp," the foreman announced. He pushed Parker to the front rank of the group. "He won't hurt ye," he added. "He has got used enough to men to be a little sassy, an' he's got colty on Gid Ward's grain, but he's mostly bluff."
It is not a blague, my mascot." Shortly afterwards she began to cry again, at first gently; then sobs supervened. "She must sleep," he said firmly. She shook her head. "I cannot. I have been too upset. It is impossible that I should sleep." "She must." "Go and buy me a drug." "If I go and buy her a drug, will she undress and get into bed while I am away?" She nodded.
The six freshmen, walking along the street together had been rounded up and haled into the store where the football squad held its "club" meetings. "Humph! I'd be a poor mascot for any body," muttered Dick. "I haven't been able to bring even myself good luck." "You just come to a game once, all six of you," begged Ben Badger. "Then you'll see how we can pile up the score over the enemy!
"They 've got to stop printing money when I ain't got some." The next minute he was in line behind the stand where he had made his purchase, tightly grasping the ticket which was to give him back his gold-piece and four hundred dollars. Four hundred dollars! It was a snug little sum. The gold-piece had proved a mascot after all.
Everyone, from the colonel down to the humblest private, was secretly proud of the church. The possession of such a thing gave a certain distinction to the battalion. Haddingly was a good deal chaffed about it; but the building was in a fair way to become a regimental mascot "I'm not strafing the padre," said Captain Maitland, "but I wish we had a few of the books we left behind."
Burton, manager of the Temple Camp office, had told Tom that the only way to acquire confidence and readiness of speech was to formulate what he wished to say and to say it, without depending on any one else, and to this good advice, Peewee Harris, mascot of Tom's Scout Troop had made the additional suggestion, that it was good to say it whether you had anything to say or not, on the theory, I suppose, that if you cannot shoot bullets, it is better to shoot blank cartridges than nothing at all.
I just couldn't! I'd die!" "It's all right about that don't you worry! I asked Miss Hampson, and she said: 'Certainly, Sunday clothes'. I'll speak to Hilary, and try to get her to leave you alone. As for those kids, just leave them to me; I'll tackle them, and tell them what I think of the way they behaved to-night the young wretches! I fancy I'll make them squirm!" "You mascot!
It was a hideous tangle to owe itself to the joyous gambollings of the firemen's mascot dog. And there was more to it than the hopeless smashing of the Saturday's plans. Into the midst of the mordant reflections, and adding a sting which was all its own, came the thought of this newest obligation laid upon him by his father and his father's wife.
That he, Pee-wee Harris, mascot of the Raven Patrol, First Bridgeboro Troop, should have come to this! That he should be carried away by a pair of inhuman wretches, to what dreadful fate he shuddered to conjecture.
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