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Updated: June 15, 2025
"Not now," said the Quan, "I admit; it's three months since he went in. The hole was bigger then." "Bigger then?" "Certainly, masters! the heap you see below is only ice. It's the drip of that great icicle that has frozen up as it fell, and if it were not there you'd see a place big enough for a bear to get in. Ah! sirs! he's there, I can assure you." "Why, he couldn't get out of himself?"
"Sir, I could quote several passages, but here is one which seems to me very good: 'Coyam rege', says the poet, 'sua de paupertate tacentes, plus quan pocentes ferent." "True indeed," said the king, with a smile.
She would have gone on stuttering at it until she got it straight, if Galbraith hadn't put her out of her misery by striding over, snatching the book from Quan, and reading the line himself. She hadn't anything more to say in the first act, and she managed to get through the rest of the song numbers without disaster, if equally without confidence or dash.
It accounted, of course, for the rather odd way in which the landlady, the ticket-seller at the Globe, and meek little Mr. Quan, the assistant stage manager, all had looked at her, as at some one they couldn't classify.
"Why?" asked the ex-guardsman, "don't you intend to unearth the brute?" "Yes, master," replied the Quan; "but something must be done first. This is a black bear, you must know." "Well, and what of a black one more than any other?" demanded Pouchskin, somewhat surprised, for in the forests of Russia, where he had hunted bears, there were no black ones.
As the Quan said this he let slip a diminutive cur, which he had hitherto held in the leash. The animal, on being set free, rushed up to the hole, and commenced scratching at the ice, and barking in the most furious and excited manner. It certainly proved there was some living creature inside; but how could the Quan tell it was a bear? and, above all, a black bear!
"No," said Rose gravely, "there's no one who'll do that." "Very good," he said. "Tell Quan any name you like." The name she did tell him was Doris Dane. It was a quarter to seven when she came out through the white doors into North Clark Street.
So she sat serene through a five-second stage wait while Quan frantically spun the pages of his book to find the place he ought to have been following of course, but he'd yielded to the temptation of trying to do something else at the same time and had got lost and then dry-throated, incapable of a sound for a couple of seconds more hours they seemed after she had been identified as the culprit who had failed to come in on a cue.
"Sir, I could quote several passages, but here is one which seems to me very good: 'Coyam rege', says the poet, 'sua de paupertate tacentes, plus quan pocentes ferent." "True indeed," said the king, with a smile.
Up came the anchor, and away they glided over the now submerged sand-bar into the harbor. A nearer view showed greater charms in the Beautiful Isle. On the south, at their right, lay the great Quan Yin mountain, towering seventeen hundred feet above them, clothed in tall grass and groves of bamboo, banyan, and fir trees of every conceivable shade of green.
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