The nimble clerk had begun on the roll almost before the Speaker was through, and checked off the name. Bijah Bixby mopped his brow with a blue pocket-handkerchief. "My God," he said, "what a risk Jethro's took! they can't git through another roll-call. Jest look at Heth! Ain't he carryin' it magnificent? Hain't as ruffled as I be. I've knowed him ever sence he wahn't no higher'n that desk.

The friar sat him down in the shade of the willows and sighing, mopped his face again; quoth he: "Now may the curse of Saint Augustine, Saint Benedict, Saint Cuthbert and Saint Dominic light upon him for a lewd fellow, a clapper-claw, a thieving dog who hath no regard for Holy Church forsooth a most vicious rogue, monstrum nulla virtute redemptum a vitiis!"

He hasn't even told the school principal or the man he lives with or Ruth or anybody," declared Agnes. Mr. Sorber looked really amazed. He mopped his bald crown again and the color in his face deepened. "Why, whizzle take me!" ejaculated the showman, in surprise, "he's ashamed of us!" Tess's kindly little heart came to the rescue immediately.

He pulled out a fine red handkerchief and mopped his forehead with it. He'd had two hours of it trying to "insinse some rayson" into Mustapha's head. He had not made much progress. Mustapha was still kicking and squealing in his loose-box. The sounds reached Patsy Kenny where he sat on his log and made him sad. Gentle as he was he thought he had an understanding of even Mustapha.

It was the hand of a Chinaman, those most passionate of faro players, and at such times, seeing it follow his luck, the face of Rimrock lightened up with the semblance of a smile. He called the last turn and they paused for the drinks, while the dealer mopped his brow. "Where's Ike?" he demanded. "Well, somebody call him he's hiding out, asleep, upstairs."

Then removing his hat, he mopped feebly at the beads of sweat upon his forehead. His eyes had the dumb appeal of a frightened animal's. "I haven't had a morsel all day," he whimpered, "and the effect of the whisky has all worn off." "Speak up, man," said Christopher kindly. "I can't eat you." "Oh, it's not you," returned Will desperately; "it's Molly.

A great drove of mules was charging down the gorge of the street, and straight at him. He dived into an entrance, and stood looking at the animals in startled wonder as they thundered by, flinging the mud over the pavements. A cursing lot of drovers on ragged horses made the rear guard. Eliphalet mopped his brow.

"Because although we've got £200, even that will need watching or it will go." During this conversation Mr. Twist stood mopping his forehead. As often as he mopped it it broke out afresh and had to be mopped again. They were the only passengers left now, and had become very conspicuous.

"Just the same, I should like to know more about those fellows." "I wish I had seen their faces." "Yes, it's a pity we didn't get a better look at them. But I'd know their voices." By the time they gave up the hunt the sun was shining brightly. Both walked to where the boat had been left, and Joe turned the craft over so that the water might run out. Then he mopped off the seats as best he could.

There, as he afterwards expressed it, he "mopped up the floor" with one after another of the ringleaders, beginning with young Billy McGaw, Dan's eldest son and Cully's senior. Tom was dumfounded at the attack on Patsy. This was a blow upon which she had not counted. To strike her Patsy, her cripple, her baby!