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The ship churns forward to her moorings. It is singing; there is no mistaking it. But the air! Does it deal with "spicy breezes," and "pleasing prospects?" No; it is a sort of chant. Listen again. Ah, it is Lottie Collins's masterpiece, not Bishop Heber's: it is "Ta-ra-ra boom de-ay."
"See that breakfast is sent up to Lady Rylton," says he calmly. A faint colour rises to Tita's forehead. She goes straight to the door. Randal Gower, who is still at the sideboard, hurries to open it for her. "There's a regular ta-ra-ra waiting for you," says he, "in the near bimeby." Tita gives him an indignant glance as she goes by, which that youth accepts with a beaming smile.
Some of them were empty. The door of one stood ajar, and a sudden smell of disinfectant made him stop and look in. There was something lying on a bed covered by a grimy sheet. "Um m," muttered Cornish, and walked on. There had been another visitor to the malgamite works that day. Then Cornish paused for a moment near Uncle Ben's hut, and listened to "Ta-ra-ra boom-de-ay."
Their honor! their feelings! Ta-ra-ra, rubbish and shams! When he was with them, he believed in them, the ci-devant "monstre"; he never contradicted them, and he made them shine.
He has a long garden-implement in his hand, and he is sending up the death-rate in slug circles with a devastating rapidity. "Ta-ra-ra boom-de-ay Ta-ra-ra BOOM " And the boom is a death-knell. As it rings softly out on the pleasant spring air, another stout slug has made the Great Change. It is peculiar, this gaiety. It gives one to think. Others have noticed it, his lordship's valet amongst them.
Twenty to one on the favourite! I'm your man! Now then, ma'am; hurry up, don't keep the coach awaiting! Give 'um their 'eds, Bill! So long! Ta-ra-ra, boom-di-ay! God save the Queen!"
March you at our head, and you will see how we like it. His words gave us new heart; his promises seemed already to clothe us. We were ragged and tired; but it seemed, after that speech, as if we walked on air, and were dressed in silken robes. Forward, march! Boom boom boom! Ta-ra, ta-ra-ra! Hear the drums! See us marching! We marched through the day; we marched through the night.
Their honor! their feelings! Ta-ra-ra, rubbish and shams! When he was with them, he believed in them, the ci-devant "monstre"; he never contradicted them, and he made them shine.
As for me, I don't choose that any man should get the better of me, get the better of a former attorney to the Chatelet! ta-ra-ra! Every man to whom a sum of money is lent as heedlessly as you lent yours to Mongenod, ends, after a certain time, by thinking that money his own. It is no longer your money, it is his money; you become his creditor, an inconvenient, unpleasant person.
Sure you don't want me to arrange to borrow a star or two to make a ta-ra-ra for the lady that's made a monkey out of you? No? All right, old dear! I'm on my way to do my damnedest, which angels can't do no more. Nevertheless, for your sins, you shall do me a favour before my heart breaks after falling down on this contract you've just given me." "Granted, Buck. Name it."
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