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Updated: June 3, 2025
There was the doughty doughnut, the tender oly koek, and the crisp and crumbling cruller; sweet cakes and short cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes, and the whole family of cakes.
Fin'lly she finished up with a regular howl, you might say, of rage. "'The crew took to the boat and left 'er asleep below, says Hammond. ''Oly scissors: they're in for a lively time if old Nutcrackers 'ere ever catches 'em, 'ey? "Well, we went over the schooner and examined everything, but there wa'n't nothing of any value nowheres.
Sir Godfrey at home?" "Ay to the first question, and No to the second." "My Lady is in her bower?" "My Lady's in the privy garden, whither you were best take the damsel to her." Sim led the horses away to the stable, and Saint Oly turned to Amphillis. "Then, if it please you, follow me, my mistress; we were best to go to my Lady at once."
Leggatt come out noble as your employee, and, by 'Eaven's divine grace, instead of arguing, he pleaded his new paint and varnish which was Mr. "True," says he, "paint's an 'oly thing. I'll give you one hour to arrange a modus vivendi. Full bunkers and steam ready by 9 P.M. to-night, if you please." 'Even so, Mr. Leggatt was far from content. I 'ad to arrange the details.
"Oh, you good, good boy! . . . Yes, dear lads," went on Link Andrew, in a mimicking voice, "it is indeed the meet-your-flag of our 'oly Motherland, and 'Erbert 'Enery Bates, our Good Conduck Medallist, will now oblige by going down on his knees and kissing it. Else I'll put an eye on him!" Master Bates "Good Conduct Bates" stepped forward, with his fists up.
Sam, I want you to step along to 'Oly Innocents with us, and on the road I'll fix up your modest hopper'andy." Of this modus operandi the opening move was made as the trio reached the confines of the Orphanage premises. Here, by the angle of the red brick wall, Mr. Bossom halted to strike a match for his pipe.
"No, I couldn't prove it without showing everybody wot sort of wife I'd got." "She's a jolly sight too good fer yous, an' well yer know it." "Yes, that's wot I complain of," said Jonah. "I'd prefer a wife like other men 'ave that can mind their 'ouse, an' not make a 'oly show of themselves w'en they take 'em out." "A fat lot yer take me out!" "Take yous out! Yah! Look at yer neck!"
If 'tain't Sir Morton Pippitt, it's Leach, an' if 'tain't Leach it's Putty Leveson an' if 'tain't Leveson, why it's Adam Frost an' his wife, an' if 'tain't Frost an' his wife, why it's you an' me, old gel! We can get up a breeze as well as any couple wot was ever jined in the bonds of 'oly matterimony! Hor-hor-hor!
English reverence, Irish mysticism, American idealism, looked up and saw on the face of Moses a certain smile. It was that smile of the Cynic Triumphant, which has been the tocsin for many a cruel riot in Russian villages or mediaeval towns. "Oh, 'oly, 'oly, 'oly!" said Moses Gould. Finding that this was not well received, he explained further, exuberance deepening on his dark exuberant features.
"Wot's the good of mykin' a 'oly show of ourselves for them mugs?" he demanded. "They don't love us, an' bloody well glad they'd be a-seein' us cuttin' our throats. Yer not 'arf bad, 'Ump! You've got spunk, as you Yanks s'y, an' I like yer in a w'y. So come on an' shyke." Coward that I might be, I was less a coward than he.
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