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Updated: May 1, 2025
"I am coming down as fast as I can," began Peace's voice, equally frigid. Then there was a sound of ripping, a dreadful clatter, a dull thud, and Faith rushed forward with the agonized scream, "Oh, Peace, Peace, are you hurt? I am sorry I was ugly! You do care! Open your eyes, Peace! Oh-h-h-h!"
Evylyn flew to her sewing-basket, rummaged until she found a torn handkerchief, and hurried downstairs. In a moment Julie was crying in her arms as she searched for the cut, faint, disparaging evidences of which appeared on Julie's dress. "My THU-umb!" explained Julie. "Oh-h-h-h, t'urts." "It was the bowl here, the he one," said Hilda apologetically.
Oh-h-h-h!" Now the Prophet, as has been before observed, possessed a very sensitive nature. He was also very devoted to his grandmother, and had an extraordinary reverence for the world-famed attainments of Sir Tiglath Butt. Therefore, when he heard Mrs. Merillia's pleading, and the astronomer's weighty denunciation, he was deeply moved.
The little Yankee is regarding your full-blown curves and empty eyes with rebellion, though he says, ever so meekly: "Yes, I guess it is about that, Miss Theresa." "Well, I just knew you couldn't stand it away from us. I suppose you'll want your room back. Ma, here's Mr. Wrenn back again Mr. Wrenn! Ma!" "Oh-h-h-h!" sounded Goaty Zapp's voice, in impish disdain, below. "Mr. Wrenn's back. Hee, hee!
“When was that?” she asked coyly, to hide her embarrassment, and sweeping him one laughing glance. “Why, that night, dear, at the gate, in the moonlight. Don’t you remember?” “Oh-h-h-h!” Marcia caught her breath and a thrill of joy passed through her that made her close her eyes lest the glad tears should come.
It began: Oh-h-h, I stopped at a big cook-quari-um Not very long ago, To see the bass and suckers And hear the white whale blow. The chorus of it ran: Oh-h-h-h, the big sea-line he howled and he growled, The seal beat time on a drum; The whale he swallered a den-vereel In the big cook-quari-um. From that one Banjo passed to "The Cowboy's Lament," and from tragedy to love.
"Oh-h-h-h!" groaned the sergeant at the mention of the latter word, and thereupon he put his head over the boat and paid his second subscription. Mr. Jorrocks stood eyeing him, and when the sergeant recovered, he observed with apparent mildness and compassion, "Now, my dear sergeant, to show ye that I can return good for evil, allow me to fatch you a nice 'ot mutton chop!"
Mudge back in his chair again, gasping and panting! "Quick!" he shrieked, "stop that band! Send it away! Catch hold of me! Block the entrances! Block the entrances! Give me the red book! Oh, oh, oh-h-h-h!!!" The music had begun again. It was merely a temporary interruption.
And he laid his old head on his desk and laughed his shrill, senile laugh, while tears of joy rolled down his rosy old cheeks. "Oh-h-h-h, my!" he cackled. To think of a young pup like you coming in and chasing an old dog like Hudner round the lot and taking his bone away from him!" He turned to the general manager: "Oh, Skinner! Skinner, my dear boy, this will be the death of me yet!
He was tottering through the common room, wondering whether he could find a clothing-shop in Aengusmere, when a shrill gurgle from a wing-chair by the rough-brick fireplace halted him. "Oh-h-h-h, Mister Wrenn; Mr. Wrenn!" There sat Mrs. Stettinius, the poet-lady of Olympia's rooms on Great James Street. "Oh-h-h-h, Mr.
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