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Updated: June 23, 2025
Then the Legislatoore arouses itse'f to its peril, that a-way, an' ups an makes a law abatin' of mixed drinks. This yere bein' gospel trooth, you'll have to drink straight whiskey; an' you might as well drink it outen a tin cup, too. "As he says this, Black Jack sets up a bottle an' a tin cup, an' then for a blazer slams a six-shooter on the bar at the same time.
To this place the river is navigable: but higher within a myle, by reason of the Rocks and Isles, there is not passage for a small Boat, this they call the Falles . The people in all parts kindly intreated them, till being returned within twentie myles of Iames towns, they gaue iust cause of iealousie: but had God not blessed the discoverers otherwise than those at the Fort, there had then beene an end of that plantation; for at the Fort, where they arrived the next day, they found 17 men hurt, and a boy slaine by the Salvages, and had it not chanced a crosse barre shot from the Ships strooke downe a bough from a tree amongst them, that caused them to retire, our men had all beene slams, being securely all at works, and their armes in dry fats.
Consider the misery which is piling itself up in the slams of our great cities -the degenerate, the defective, the insane, who are multiplying as never before in history.
It was no longer a question of obtaining the means of continuing their gambling; they had awakened from that dream, and saw what dupes they had been. And indeed the Slams, father and son, found that their little game was being talked about in the neighbourhood too freely for safety, and had abruptly discontinued it.
Natalie drew her chair closer and lowered her voice. "What can one do with a man who simply lives war? He spends hours over the papers. He's up if the Allies make a gain, and impossible if they don't. I can tell by the very way he slams the door of his room when he comes home what the news is. It's dreadful." Audrey flushed. "I wish there were more like him." But Natalie smiled tolerantly.
"Steve observes with chagrin that this yere lady is displeased; an', as he can't figger nothin' else out quick to entertain her, he gives a whoop, slams his six-shooter off into the scenery, socks his spurs into the pony, an' hops himse'f over the side of the bridge a whole lot into the shallow water below.
"'You-all can't ring in Mexicans an' snake no play on us. This yere 'lection's goin' to be on the squar', or it's goin' to come off in the smoke." "'With this, Red River, who's been sorter domineerin' at Ormsby with his six-shooter while he's freein' his mind, slams her loose. Red River over-shoots, an' Ormsby downs him with a bullet in his laig. "'Thirteen for Old Monroe," says Ormsby.
But the gate slams to with thundering sound. The pursuers are left without. "Undo the bolts, Colonel von Rochow! I command you, undo the bolts!" "Who is it that dares to command me?" calls down Colonel von Rochow from the fortification walls. "I command you! I, the commandant in chief of all the fortresses in the Mark!" "I know no commandant in chief, and trouble myself about no such person.
But she's at Clifton, with a couple of nurses, and Rosamund heard rumours that she is very ill indeed. . . . People go to Clifton for shattered nerves, you know." "Yes; for bridge-fidgets, neurosis, pip, and the various jumps that originate in the simpler social circles. What's the particular matter with her? Too many cocktails? Or a dearth of grand slams?" "You are brutal, Austin.
Picture to yourself, as he slams the door behind him and shouts his message to the world below, that I remain seated facing the light, while Dolly on my knee listens to a postscript of Cinderella. My eyes are fixed on the beauty of the old side-face I see against the light. Get this image clear, and then I will tell you what followed.
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