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Updated: August 31, 2025
Seems to me ef they're jest alike, so much the better. What's the matter with havin' a pair of 'em? We might use one for buttermilk." "Th-that would be perfectly ridiculous. A polar bear'd look like a fool on a buttermilk pitcher. N-n-no, the place for pitchers like them is in halls, on tables, where anybody comin' in can see 'em an' stop an' git a drink.
And you've m-m-missed a ch-ch-chance to be a V-V-Vestal. I've n-n-no p-p-patience with you. Any other g-g-girl would j-j-jump at the ch-ch-chance." "Jump at it!" cried Brinnaria. "Why?" "Why?" sneered Flexinna, blazing with excitement. "Why, just think what you've m-m-missed!
Fred, of course you have just thanked Mr. Prescott again for his heroic act?" "N-n-no, sir," stammered Fred. "When I return I don't want to have to hear another answer like that," warned the lawyer, sternly. Then he closed the door behind him. Dick turned, with a dry smile. "Since you're under orders to thank me, Fred, get it over with quickly," laughed the freshman. "I'll help you all I can."
"I don't care if I do," she said, riding to the edge of the path, drawing rein and looking down as if to examine the ground. "Come, little beauty, must I help you off?" asked the stranger. "N-n-no," answered Capitola, with deliberate hesitation; "no, this is not a good place to sit down and talk; it's all full of brambles." "Very well; shall we go on a little further?"
An ice bag on your head and real quiet for two-three days. You'll come round fine." But Wallie was almost sulking. "Wait till you see her, S.H. She sings." "Beautiful, is she?" "No, not particularly. No." "Wonderful voice, h'm?" "N-n-no. I wouldn't say it was what you'd call exactly wonderful." Sid Hahn stood up in the droshky and waved his short arms in windmill circles.
There was a touch of horror in his voice, though he was evidently making an effort to control him-self. "I can't I can't remember." "What's your name? You remember that?" Tembarom put it to him. "N-n-no !" agonizingly. "If I could! If I could!" "How did you get in here?" "I came in because I saw a policeman. He wouldn't understand. He would have stopped me. I must not be stopped. I MUST not."
"N-n-no, I can't say I do, Hawkesley, under her present disguise." "Disguise, my dear sir; she is not disguised at all. That is the pirate-brig which destroyed poor Richards' vessel the Juliet. And yes there can scarcely be a doubt about it she must be the notorious Black Venus of which the Yankee skipper told us." Smellie looked at me in great surprise and perplexity for a moment.
"So would I," admitted Cap'n Bill, "if we would live to tell the tale." "Don't you believe us?" asked the mermaid, fixing her lovely eyes on those of the old sailor and smiling prettily. "Are you afraid to trust us to bring you safely back?" "N-n-no," said Cap'n Bill, "'tain't that. I've got to look after Trot."
"N-n-no," said Ola, exceedingly put out, "my brother sings capitally." "Do you think so?" she said, drily. This was the most astounding thing that had ever happened to Ola: that there could be more than one opinion about his brother's singing, and that she, his "future wife," did not seem to admire it! And yet it was not quite unpleasant to him to hear it.
But what could Nelse Ackerman have told that was so very bad? "You were going to have a spy of your own, set up your own bureau, and kick me out, perhaps!" "My God!" thought Peter. "Who told that?" Then suddenly Guffey stopped in front of him. "Was that what you thought?" he demanded. He repeated the question, and it appeared that he really wanted an answer, and so Peter stammered, "N-n-no, sir."
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