Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 2, 2025
I once seen the same kind o' scoondrel at the Picters. When he opened his mouth to swear, I kenned he was a foreigner, like the lads down at the Broomielaw. That looked black, but I hadn't got at the worst of it. Then he loosed off at me wi' his gun." "Were you not feared?" said Dickson. "Ay, I was feared. But ye'll no' choke off the Gorbals Die-Hards wi' a gun.
Picters and magazines! Gawd 'elp the man as hain't nothin' but picters and magazines to 'elp un w'en 'ee's got a devil hinside and a devil houtside a-shovin' and a-drawin' of un down to 'ell. And that's w'ere oi'm a-goin' straight, and yer bloomin' League, wisky or no wisky, can't help me.
If a man's puttin' his heart an' soul, an' blood, an' beef-steak, an' bones into paintin' picters, you can talk farmin' to him all day, an' he's dumb; but jest show him 'at you see what he's a-drivin' at in his work, an' he'll love you like a brother.
"Mercy, Bess!" whispered Nan. "That's worthy of extravagant Laura Polk herself." "Thank you," responded Bess, as the farmer recovered from a fit of "the chuckles" over Bess Harley's joke. Bess added this question: "What particular form of insanity do your daughter and Sallie Morton display, Mr. Snubbins?" "Movin' picters," ejaculated the farmer. "Drat 'em!
"Well, if ever I see picters, I see 'em now, and I declare to goodness it's as interestin' as play-actin', every bit. Miss Di, with all them boughs in her head, looks like the Queen of Sheby, when she went a-visitin' What's-his-name; and if Miss Laura a'n't as sweet as a lally-barster figger, I should like to know what is."
"O Gawd! picters and pincushions and Testaments with United States flags in them I never did have any luck, anyhow! in this here war nor on Thunder Run neither!" Dave Maydew rolled over. "Steve says Thunder Run didn't like him Gosh! what's a-going to happen ef Steve takes to telling the truth?" Sergeant Coffin turned from contemplation of a bursting shell above the Grapevine crossing.
I crack the nut and you eat the kernel! I tellee once again you've an addle pate o' your own! Go to France to learn to dance, to be sure! Better stay at home and learn to transmogrify a few kink's picters into your pocket. No marry come fairly! Squire Nincompoop! He would not a sifflicate Sir Arthur, and advise him to stay at home, and so keep the rhino for the roast meat!
And there's wisky at Slavin's, and there's wisky in the shacks, and hevery 'oliday and hevery Sunday there's wisky, and w'en ye feel bad it's wisky, and w'en ye feel good it's wisky, and heverywhere and halways it's wisky, wisky, wisky! And now ye're goin' to stop it, and 'ow? T' manager, 'ee says picters and magazines.
He's one o' them fellers that goes 'round with books in their pockets with picters in 'em that no girl oughter see and no white man oughter read. He gits 'em down to Louisville. There ain't a man in Pondville won't tell ye it's true.
Hopkins's words, "They looked like picters, and behaved like angels." That evening, Sunday evening as it was, there was a quiet meeting of some few friends at The Poplars. It was such a great occasion that the Sabbatical rules, never strict about Sunday evening, which was, strictly speaking, secular time, were relaxed. Father Pemberton was there, and Master Byles Gridley, of course, and the Rev.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking