United States or Saint Helena, Ascension, and Tristan da Cunha ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Yes, and if I let him go that's what he would be doing," said Madam bitterly. "Mr. Chester don't think so," persisted Quin; "he says Mr. Ranny's got a lot of ability." "Don't quote that sissified Francis Chester to me. He may be a good man I suppose he is; but I can't abide the sight of him. He goes around holding one hand in the other as if he were afraid he'd spill it!
Allison, always ready to curl his lips over anything sissified, sat watching him gravely. Here was a new specimen. He didn't know where to place him. Did he have to lead a meeting? Was he a minister's son or something, or did he just do it because he wanted to, because it seemed his duty to do it? Allison could not decide.
Mirthless as the grin of a skull, the Senior Surgeon's mouth twisted up a little at one corner. "Maybe I could have borne it better if she'd been a boy," he acknowledged grimly. "But to see all your virile masculine vices come back at you so sissified in skirts!" "Yes, sir," said the White Linen Nurse. With an unmistakable gasp of relief the Senior Surgeon expanded his great chest. "There!
She needs these raw brawny Vandals and Goths of alien lands as much as they need Canada. She needs their hardy virility. They are the crude material of which she must manufacture a manhood that is not sissified, and one must never forget that some of the most honored names in the United States are from these very races.
He had waxen-white cheeks with daubs of pink as if they had been put there from a rouge pot. His hair was nicely scented, oiled, and patted down. His small hands were white and perfectly manicured. Nippers began to snicker openly at him. But the sharp variety and incisiveness of the oaths he vented at us, soon disabused us of any opinion we might have held that he was sissified....
A "sissy" came down the steps of the dug-out, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief; fancy any one carrying a handkerchief in the front line; one had essentials enough to carry without being burdened with such a feminine article; another of the boys was sitting writing a letter with his ground-sheet under him in the mud. The sissified one blurted out: "Holy gee! but I'm perspiring profusely."
Why, the doc was saying, just this morning, when we was speaking of having read about you in the paper he was saying that you were the kind of man we need for president of our country club, instead of some dude like that sissified Buck Simpson. Buck is as punk an athlete as he is a shoeman, and, believe me, Mr. Appleby, we've got the makings of a fine country club.
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