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Updated: October 6, 2025
I I didn't stop t' look an' see ef he had horns, but I s'pects he had, cause he were kind of diggin' in de sand." "That's the toad all right!" exclaimed the professor, joyfully. "Where is the place? Take me out there right away, Ponto." "Take you out dere, Perfesser?" "Yes, right away."
Mane, piger, stertis: surge, inquit Avaritia; eja Surge. Negas, Instat, surge inquit. Non queo. Surge. Et quid agam? Rogitas? Saperdas advehe Ponto, Castoreum, stuppas, hebenum, thus, lubrica Coa. Tolle recens primus piper e siliente camelo. Verte aliquid; jura. Sed Jupiter Audiet. Eheu! Baro, regustatum digito terebrare salinum Contentus perages, si vivere cum Jove tendis.
Gibbon wrote to Holroyd Misc. Works, ii 126: 'Never pretend to allure me by painting in odious colours the dust of London. But for the old, the infirm, the straightened in fortune, the grave in character or in disposition, I do not believe a much worse place can be found. Ib. iv. 250. 'Nescio qua natale solum dulcedine captos Ducit, et immemores non sinit esse sui. Ovid, Ep. ex Ponto, i. 3. 35.
Now, Ponto, lookout that no horned toads or web-footed lizards get the young ladies, and, above all, don't lie down alongside the road and take a nap." "Hu! Guess I ain't gwine t' sleep when I's 'scortin my massa's daughters home," declared the colored man, rather indignant that such a slur should be cast on him. "Don't worry," called Jerry, as the girls walked along the dock to shore.
'Heavenly powers! says I, admiring the pure ardour of these female theologians; and Stripes came in with the tea. It's so weak that no wonder Ponto's sleep isn't disturbed by it. Of mornings we used to go out shooting. I shot a hen, I know, greatly to my delight. 'Bag it, says Ponto, in rather a hurried manner: 'here's somebody coming. So I pocketed the bird.
Dogs frequently form warm friendships, and help each other in time of trouble. Two dogs belonging to the same owner had become great friends. Ponto and Dick, we will call them, though I am not quite certain as to their names. Ponto's leg being broken, he was kept a close prisoner.
Having cut himself some extremely substantial sandwiches, and filled his 'monkey' full of sherry, our friend Jog slipped out the back way to loosen old Ponto, who acted the triple part of pointer, house-dog, and horse to Gustavus James. He was a great fat, black-and-white brute, with a head like a hat-box, a tail like a clothes-peg, and a back as broad as a well-fed sheep's.
In 1768 he was again in Vienna, where he produced his little operetta, "Bastien und Bastienne," and in the same year the Archbishop of Salzburg made him his concertmeister. The next year he went to Italy, where he both studied and composed, and was received with extraordinary honors. In 1771 he brought out his opera, "Mitridate, Rè di Ponto," at Milan, with great success.
Then he caught sight of the travelers. "Why, I 'clar' t' gracious!" he exclaimed. "Ef it ain't dem motor boys an' Perfesser Snowgrass!" "How are you, Ponto?" sang out Bob. "Fine, sah! Dat's what I is! Fine. I 'clar' t' gracious I'se glad t' see yo'! Git down offen dat stage! It'll fall apart in anoder minute! Go long outer heah, yo' yellow trash!" and Ponto shook his fist at Hop Sing.
He put up his hand and sat up with a start. "I 'clar' t' goodness!" he said, "I were jest waitin' fo' yo', an' I close mah eyes, jest fo' one little second, but dis atmosphere am so slumberous dat, 'fore I knows it, I'm sort of noddin'." "I guess you were more than nodding," said Olivia. "But why were you waiting for us, Ponto?"
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