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Updated: May 21, 2025
And he began trotting round and round the room, lifting up the chairs, and shaking them. Bruno took a very small book out of the bookcase, opened it, and shook it in imitation of the Professor. "He isn't here," he said. "He ca'n't be there, Bruno!" Sylvie said indignantly. "Course he ca'n't!" said Bruno. "I should have shooked him out, if he'd been in there!" "Has he ever been lost before?"
Them two couldn't help theirselfs. I've got to finish some day, same as you. All right; I'll finish with them." Then I shooked hands with him and he done so with me. He looks me keen in the eyes and I looks him keen back. We didn't neither of us weaken. This was a heap the hardest thing we'd ever faced together, but we didn't neither of us flicker. We'd both decided what we thought was right.
"She sh sh shooked me the old thing!" sobbed Winnie. "He broke my box and lost all my beads, and I've got them all to pick up just as I was trying to put my room in order, and so I was mad," said Gypsy, frankly. "Winnie, you may go down stairs," said Mrs. Breynton, "you must learn to be more careful with Gypsy's things." Winnie slid down on the banisters, and Mrs. Breynton shut the door.
Besides, the elephants were with me, and so was Frank, the boy who was shooked. I saw him shooked and so did Bert, didn't you?" and Freddie looked at his older brother. "Well, we won't talk about that part of it," said his mother with a smile. "It isn't nice to think about, and I am glad Frank is in a place now where he will be kindly treated. Though perhaps Mr. Mason did not mean to be cruel.
Tell 'e wot, lad: 'at 's f'r w'y 'e C'lonian 'osses bea n't no good, aside o' Hinglish 'osses. Ain't got n' moor g-ts 'n a snoipe. G-ts shooked outen 'em a-gallerpin' in 'obbles. Noo 'osses 'ud dure sich gallerpin' in 'obbles. Doan' 'e preach 'obbles ter me, lad. Oi got good 'osses; noo man betteh; 'osses fit f'r a gentleman; on'y C'lonian 'osses 'es C'lonian fau'ts ahd ter ketch 'ell ter ketch.
Vaniman had found the inscription interesting when he knelt and peered up: Here Lies the Body of THOSPIT WAGG, In Politics a Whig. By Occupation a Cooper in a Hoop-pole Town. Now Food for Worms. Here I Lie, Like an Old Rum Puncheon, Marked, Numbered and Shooked, To be Raised at Last and Finished by the Hand of My Maker. As Egypt knew, Usial Britt did not print for profit.
'Pretty, thinks I; 'so far so good. The way she whacked the pillers, shooked the blankets, and pitched into the beds was a caution; specially one blunderin' old featherbed that wouldn't do nothin' but sag round in a pig-headed sort of way, that would have made most girls get mad and give up.
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