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Updated: June 1, 2025
Lindau threw back his great old head and laughed, showing a want of teeth under his mustache. He put his hand on March's back. "This poy he was a poy den wars so gracy to pekin reading Heine that he gommence with the tictionary bevore he knows any Grammar, and ve bick it out vort by vort togeder."
"Then somebody else has carried her off, and I'm going to know all about it before I come back to camp. If I never come back, you may have the stuff and land. I'm in this heels over head, and I don't care how soon things end with me." "But, Prowny, old poy, I vill help you " "You stay here. This is my hunt." Jim passed the rustic guest-houses without turning aside from the trail.
As the hand of the German workman grasped Richard's arm the boy realized that he was in an awkward fix. Appearances were all against him, and as the man glared at him Richard knew not what to say. "Come now, vat vas you doing here, hey?" demanded the German. "I I was after a boy who stole something from me," stammered Richard. "After a poy?" "Yes. He ran down here, and I came after him."
"He was a pretty cay poy in those days, heigh, Lindau?" asked Fulkerson, burlesquing the old man's accent, with an impudent wink that made Lindau himself laugh. "But in the dark ages, I mean, there in Indianapolis. Just how long ago did you old codgers meet there, anyway?"
Here, Martha! Martha! where iss that wuman? It iss always out of the way she iss when she's wantit. Ay, Peegwish, you will do equally well. Go to the staple, man, an' tell the poy to put the mare in the cariole. Make him pe quick; it's slow he iss at the best, whatever." Lambert did not wait to hear the remarks of Angus, but drove off at once.
"He was a pretty cay poy in those days, heigh, Lindau?" asked Fulkerson, burlesquing the old man's accent, with an impudent wink that made Lindau himself laugh. "But in the dark ages, I mean, there in Indianapolis. Just how long ago did you old codgers meet there, anyway?"
'My dear sir, said Paul, 'I never spoke a word in public in my life. I can't do it. 'That's all right, my poy, said Darco. 'You've got to do it. There was no arguing the matter. Mr. Warr was despatched in the fly to gather the members of the company. Darco thrust into Paul's hands the part he had to study, and went off tranquilly to his own room to sleep.
One beautiful Sunday morning while the party assembled in Kinlossie House was at breakfast, a message was brought to the laird that he "wass wantit to speak wi' the poy Tonal'." "Well, Donald, my lad, what want ye with me this fine morning?" asked the laird, on going out to the hall. "I wass telt to tell ye the'll be no kirk the day, for the minister's got to preach at Drumquaich."
"Give tem to me, my poy!" cried the old piper, reaching out a hand as eager to clutch the uncouth instrument as the miser's to finger his gold; "hear well to me as I play, and you'll soon be able to play pibroch or coronach with the best piper between Cape Wrath and ta Mull o' Cantyre."
Lindau threw back his great old head and laughed, showing a want of teeth under his mustache. He put his hand on March's back. "This poy he was a poy den wars so gracy to pekin reading Heine that he gommence with the tictionary bevore he knows any Grammar, and ve bick it out vort by vort togeder."
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