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"The queerest looking man came to the house to see you this afternoon, Monty," said Peggy. "He wore a beard and he made me think of one of Remington's cowboys." "What was his name?" "He told the maid it did not matter. I saw him as he walked away and he looked very much a man. He said he would come to-morrow if he did not find you down town to-night. Don't you recognize him from the description?"
They were purely subjective, the sportive pranks of Hood's own ME, when that ME was in its queerest moods. How naturally the impossible or the absurd took the semblance of consistency in the mental associations of Hood, we observe even in his private correspondence. I shall turn a fish soon, and have the pleasure of angling for myself." This, if without intention, would be a blunder or a bull.
One would think you didn't want to." "Why, I don't know that I do, particularly. Why should I?" "Why should you! Mary Lathrop, I do think you are the queerest girl. You don't talk like a girl at all. Sometimes I think you are as old as as Prissy." "Prissy" was the disrespectful nickname by which the young ladies referred, behind her back, to Miss Priscilla Cabot. Mary laughed.
"Why don't you talk, one of you?" George demanded, with his mouth full. Taffy shook himself out of his waking dream "I was wondering where it goes to," he said, and nodded toward the running water. "It goes down to Langona," said George, "and that's just a creek full of sand, with a church right above it in a big grass meadow the queerest small church you ever saw.
"I was told in the town that you were a great fisherman, and that you could let me have all the tackle I would need." "Upon my word," said old Peter, resting his pipe-hand on his knee and looking steadfastly at me, "you're the queerest fisherman I've see'd yet.
They're almost as friendly as dogs if you know how to get on with 'em. Watch him peckin' about there an' lookin' round at us now an' again. He knows we're talkin' about him." It was the queerest thing in the world to see the old fellow. He looked at the plump little scarlet-waistcoated bird as if he were both proud and fond of him. "He's a conceited one," he chuckled.
"Why, that's the queerest thing I ever heard of," said Roy slowly. "Why is it?" "Because he started to come down here Wednesday afternoon by the 5:30 express." "He did?" It was now Scott's turn to look astonished. "And you say he never got here?" went on Roy. "Of course he didn't. You don't suppose we have him smuggled away somewhere, do you?"
It's really funny, you know, the way pancreatic influences can be idealised made to serve ennobling ends. But Mr. Lindsay is different." "Yes?" Miss Livingstone's intention was neutral, but, in spite of her, the asking note was in the word. "We have done some interesting things together here. He has shown me the queerest places.
One by one, from different parts of the port, the queerest old men came into our house on the day of my father's funeral men who still believed in American ships, still thrilled to the dream of the Stars and Stripes wherever there is an ocean breeze; men who still believed in ships that had sails and moved along with the force of the winds; who still believed that cabin boys could rise by the sheer force of their wills to be powers in the ocean world; men who had for the common crowd only the iron discipline, the old brute tyranny of the sea.
He insisted upon it as a curious thing that he knew from the very beginning unless memory has played him the queerest trick that the door was unfastened, and that he could go in as he chose. I seem to see the figure of that little boy, drawn and repelled.
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