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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Come and I'll show you," his father said. Mr. Blake led the way down to the corn patch of the garden. At the end he plucked an ear of corn, stripped away the half dried husk, and showed Hal and Mab some sharp-pointed kernels. "That's the kind of corn that pops," said the children's father. "I sowed a few hills for you without saying anything. I wanted it as a surprise."
But in the depths of the great mountains, with point-blank range of six hundred yards and long pops of nearly twice that, they would be preposterous. Fancy the Quorndon or the Pytchley on the flanks of the Matterhorn! Chamois-hunting, the sporting specialty of the Swiss and the Tyrolese, appears to be dying out. The hunter of our day keeps it up rather as a tradition than as a practical pursuit.
The lot fell upon chestnuts, and these were placed neatly in pairs along the bars of the grate. "You name them after yourself and your sweetheart," explained Gowan. "If he pops first, he'll ask you to marry him." "And suppose the other pops first?" asked Carmel. "Then you won't marry him!"
Indeed, he heard them only as a very sweet, musical voice. The pistols and cannons going off in Water Street reached his ear as mild little pops. Things went on in this way till morning. About five Charlie dropped on the floor the book of Indians and dragons, that patiently had been resting in his lap all night. It roused him. He partially opened his eyes.
And oh, yes, I want you to let me just perfectly have my own way about those hangings for the drawing-room, because you see I know, and, oh, I had something else. No matter. Won't I be glad when the deal is adjusted in the interests of all concerned, as poor old Pops says. Why don't you tell me something? I'm just perfectly waiting to hear."
His bed was always full of dogs and bitches, who littered at his side, the pops rolling in the clothes. He himself was under constraint in nothing. One of his theses was, that everybody resembled him, but was not honest enough to confess it as he was. He mentioned this once to the Princesse de Conti the cleanest person in the world, and the most delicate in her cleanliness.
He pounds the sparkling sugar of benevolence, the plums of fancy, the sweetmeats of fun, the figs of well, the figs of fairy fiction, let us say, and pops the whole in the seething cauldron of imagination, and at due season serves up the Pantomime.
It's a 'sinking creek, you know; goes along with a good volume and a swift current for a while to the west, then disappears into the earth, an' ain't seen fur five mile, then comes out agin running due north, makes a tre-menjious jump the Hoho-hebee Falls then pops into the ground agin, an' ain't seen no more forever," he concluded, dramatically.
"Why, certainly you know that every dog has two names. Now, for instance, what's your registered name and number?" says he. "I've got only one name," I says. "Just Kid." Woodstock Wizard puffs at that and wrinkles up his forehead and pops out his eyes. "Who are your people?" says he. "Where is your home?" "At the stable, sir," I said. "My Master is the second groom."
So coming to the porch, when Ibbetson heard the wheels and cast the door open, I kept my seat like a rock. Pretty well pitch dark it was where I sat behind the lamps. Ibbetson comes down the steps, opens the carriage door and stands aside. After a moment he begins to breathe hard, pops his head into the brougham, then his arm, feels about a bit, and comes forward for a lamp.
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