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Updated: June 16, 2025
You'll be as keen as a w'istle in a couple o' months. An' 'ere! Christmas in Blightey, son! S'y! I'll tyke yer busted shoulder if you'll give me the chanct!" "They ain't nothin' they can't do fer you back at the base 'ospital. 'Member 'ow they fixed old Ginger up? You ain't caught it 'arf as bad!" In England, before I knew him for the man he is, I said, "How am I to endure living with him?"
As a pendant, take the description of one of the last French novels: "A Paris tout s'oublie, tout se pardonne. Par convenance, par decence, quelquefois par crainte, on s'absente, ou fait un entr'acte: puis le rideau se releve pour le spectacle de nouvelles fautes et de nouvelles folies; toute la question est de savoir s'y prendre."
Saxham's bedroom, that was on the floor above, and was done up in the loveliest style you ever! "Not that Missis W. Keyse would exchange 'er present quarters for Buckin'am Palace," she declared, pouring out her William's tea, "if invited to do so by 'er Majesty the Queen 'erself." William stopped blowing at his smoking saucer. "They s'y She's dyin'!" His face lengthened. He put the saucer down.
"Let's roll the cuss in the fancy collar," proposed one of the head-hunters, meaning me. "I'll stove yer slats if yer touch him," said Grits, and then resorted to appeal. "I s'y, carn't yer stand back and let a chap 'ave a charnst?" The head-hunters only jeered. And what shall be said of the Captain in this moment of peril?
One of my comrades was shot in the leg while digging a refuse pit. The wound was a bad one and he suffered much pain, but the humiliation was even harder to bear. What could he tell them at home? "Do you think I'm a go'n' to s'y I was a-carryin' a sandbag full of old jam tins back to the refuse pit w'en Fritzie gave me this 'ere one in the leg? Not so bloomin' likely!
He was the lion of the evening, and I think that he was very pleased. I hoped that he had forgotten the unpleasant incident of the morning and Delsarte, of whom Monsieur Due cleverly remarked, "Qui s'y frotte s'y pique ." PARIS, July, 1867. The distribution of prizes for the Exposition took place last Thursday at the Palais de l'Industrie. It was a magnificent affair and a very hot one.
An attempt to muster her doughty buccaneers failed; the gunner too had fled, Gene Hollister; Ham Durrett and the Ewanses were nowhere to be seen, and a muster revealed only Tom, the fidus Achates, and Grits Jarvis. "Ah, s'y!" he exclaimed in the teeth of the menacing hordes. "Stand back, carn't yer? I'll bash yer face in, Johnny. Whose boat is this?"
Then, as if divining what was being said, through her quick woman's instinct, she drew us toward a window in the study of Francis I and showed us these lines scratched upon one of the panes: Souvent femme varie; Mal habile qui s'y fie.
That is the only way of knowing the customs, the manners, and all the little characteristical peculiarities that distinguish one place from another; but then this familiarity is not to be brought about by cold, formal visits of half an hour: no; you must show a willingness, a desire, an impatience of forming connections, 'il faut s'y preter, et y mettre du liant, du desir de plaire.
About twenty minutes after the Germans had disappeared, something from the rear grabbed me by the foot. I nearly fainted with fright. Then a welcome whisper in a cockney accent. "I s'y, myte, we've come to relieve you." Wheeler and I crawled back to our trench, we looked like wet hens and felt worse. After a swig of rum we were soon fast asleep on the fire step in our wet clothes.
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