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"What what is de mattaire?" cried the Count, looking into the room with a face pale with anxiety. "Oh, take it away! take it away!" cried Minnie, in terror. "What? what?" "Take it away! take it away!" she repeated. "But eet ees for you eet ees a seat." "I don't want it. I won't have it!" cried Minnie. "It's full of horrid ants and things.
It was used because the subject of the poem called "The Royal Progress" was the arrival of the king, and not his accession, which took place near two months before his arrival. The editor's want of perspicacity is indeed very amusing. He is perpetually telling us that he cannot understand something in the text which is as plain as language can make it. "Mattaire," said Dr.
The doctor stood in the door of the stopping place, wet as if he had come from the river, his voice raucous and his face white. "Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the Frenchman, "what de mattaire?" The doctor swept a glance about the room. "Sick man," he said briefly. "I want this bed. Get your buckboard, quick." He seized the bed and carried it out before the eyes of the astonished Duprez.
"We must make it to-morrow or go hungry, eh? Well this isn't the first dog fish I ever ate." Both men gnawed a mouldy dried salmon from their precious store. As Willard removed his footgear he groaned. "Wat's the mattaire?" "I froze my foot two days ago snow-shoe strap too tight." He exhibited a heel, from which, in removing his inner sock, the flesh and skin had come away.
Ruth's face fell, and she lost her bright color. "But no! my dear!" said Madame. "Zere ees nossing ze mattaire. Your fazzer ees quite vell," and she hurried her indoors. Rex and Monsieur Bordier were left together on the platform. The amiable Frenchman did the honors as if it were a private salon. Monsieur the colonel was perfectly well. But perfectly!
Klusky had watched his face closely. "Vat's the mattaire? Vy do you make like that, eh? Tell me." His voice was sharp. "You've got it." "I've got it? Oi! Oi! I've got it! Vat have I got?" He knew before the answer came, but raved and cursed in frenzied denial. His tongue started, language flowed from him freely. "It ain't that. No! No! It is the rheumatissen. Yes, it shall be so.
Suddenly her keen eyes caught something and she pointed with a finger. "Vat de mattaire vid you h'arm?" she asked, excitedly. "'Ow you get 'urted?" "Oh! That! That's nothing," he answered, drawing back. "'Tisn't worth bothering about. Good-night!" "You no be one beeg fool, Monsieur Hugo!" she ordered him, masterfully. "Now you sit down an' let me look heem arm right avay quick.
"Better to take la Longue Traverse in summer, eh?" "La Longue Traverse hees not mattaire w'en yo tak' heem." "Right you are. Have there been men sent out since you came here?" "Bâ oui. Wan, two, t'ree. I don' remember. I t'ink Jo Bagneau. Nobodee he don' know, but dat ole man an' hees coureurs du bois. He ees wan ver' great man. Nobodee is know w'at he will do."
"And now it's my turn," said the doctor. "Will you keep this, captain, from me?" "Ma foi. Yais, oui," cried the French skipper, whose eyes sparkled with pleasure as the doctor handed him a very bright peculiarly-formed knife. "I keep hims. Vat is ze mattaire vis ze young shipwrecked open boatman?" "Nothing nothing at all," said Bob Chowne hastily; but he had certainly uttered a groan.
"Better to take la Longue Traverse in summer, eh?" "La Longue Traverse hees not mattaire w'en yo tak heem." "Right you are. Have there been men sent out since you came here?" "Ba oui. Wan, two, t'ree. I don' remember. I t'ink Jo Bagneau. Nobodee he don' know, but dat ole man an' hees coureurs du bois. He ees wan ver' great man. Nobodee is know w'at he will do."
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