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Updated: May 13, 2025
"'Of a horrible and slothful figure, dragging along the ignoble weight of the belly, Senor Don Jose." "You do well to translate it for me," said Pepe, "for I know very little Latin." "Oh, why should the men of the present day spend their time in studying things that are out of date?" said the canon ironically. "Besides, only poor creatures like Virgil and Cicero and Livy wrote in Latin.
Pica!" answered Don Cosme, pointing to his thorax, and smiling at the wry faces the major was making. "Wash it down, Senor, with a glass of this claret or here, Pepe! Is the Johannisberg cool yet? Bring it in, then. Perhaps you prefer champagne, Senores?" "Thank you; do not trouble yourself, Don Cosme." "No trouble, Capitan bring champagne. Here, Senor Coronel, try the guisado de pato."
And he looked round for some other victim. Meanwhile Bois-Rose was calmly reconnoitring the burning mass, which, if it touched the island, would set fire to the dried trees which composed it. "Well," cried Pepe, whose rage blinded his judgment, "it is useless to look at the fire; have you any method of making it deviate from its course?" "Perhaps," replied the Canadian.
Looking around with anxiety, she thought of the terrible beasts which had trod upon that sand. Suddenly came a frightful roar and a black beast leaped forth from the deep vomitory. Josephina clung to her husband, with a shriek of terror, and all laughed. It was Simpson, an American painter, who bent over, walking on all fours, to attack his companions with fierce cries. "Do you remember, Pepe?"
A few days before we arrived here, our friends Pepe and Pancho were playing at billiards in the Lonja, the Merchants' Exchange; and Pepe described to us the feeling of utter astonishment with which he saw his ball, after striking the other, go suddenly off at an absurd angle into a pocket. The shock of an earthquake had tilted the table up on one side.
In another moment the form came under the light of the lantern, and was easily recognised as that of Don Lucas, the captain of the coast-guard. The officer appeared to be searching for something, but presently perceiving the recumbent sentinel, he paused in his steps. "Pepe!" cried he, in a low mincing voice. No reply came from Pepe. "Pepe!" repeated the captain, in a tone a little more elevated.
"I swear it to you," repeated Rosario, "by my father's ashes, and by the God who is looking at us May our bodies, united as they are, repose under those stones when God wills to take us out of this world." "Yes," repeated the Pepe Rey, with profound emotion, feeling his soul filled with an inexplicable trouble. Both remained silent for a short time. Rosario had risen. "Already?" he said.
The priest, who had recommended Pepe Garcia, had made mention of that person's fine voice, with which the church of Marcapata was edified every Sunday. The gobernador, while putting in a word for his nephew, and particularizing the beauty of his execution on the guitar, had insinuated doubts of the baritone favored by the padre.
Then she kicked the package out of the tent. Words and action seemed to liberate a dammed-up hot fury. She kicked the package again, and thought she would kick it into the smoldering camp-fire. But somehow she stopped short of that. She left the thing there on the ground. Pepe and Antonio hove in sight, driving in the tumbling woolly flock.
I shall try to forget that I have ever, for an instant, beheld it." "It is well," said Bois-Rose, "you are now free to go." "Not yet, with your permission," replied the prisoner. "In all that has taken place, there is a mystery which I do not seek to penetrate but " "Carramba! it is very simple," answered Pepe. "This young man," said he, pointing to Fabian
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