He allers give Mark to underst-hand that he shouldn't be hard upon him, th-that he could pay along as he ger-got able." "Why should he favor him more than others? I am sure not many men would have lent the money in the first place, and I don't think it looks well to be hanging back now." "As to why yer-your husband was disposed to favor Mark, I have my opinion.

All the life and expression had gone out of his face; it was like a waxen mask. "D-don't you think," he said softly, with a curious stammering hesitation on the words, "th-that all this is v-very funny?" "FUNNY?" James pushed his chair away from the table, and sat staring at him, too much petrified for anger. "Funny! Arthur, are you mad?"

Seems to me ef they're jest alike, so much the better. What's the matter with havin' a pair of 'em? We might use one for buttermilk." "Th-that would be perfectly ridiculous. A polar bear'd look like a fool on a buttermilk pitcher. N-n-no, the place for pitchers like them is in halls, on tables, where anybody comin' in can see 'em an' stop an' git a drink.

He was more touched than he cared to show by the evident gratitude and relief of this poor terrified Catholic. "Th-that is right, sir; that is right; and now, sir, if you please, be gone at once; or the Father will have left the Cathedral. The child will be in the court below to show you the way out to the churchyard. God bless you, sir; and reward you for your kindness!"

When Dick Martin had reached this stage, he turned with a superhumanly solemn countenance to Bryce and winked. "If if you th-think," said Bryce thickly, "th-that winkin' suits you, you're mistaken."

"W-w-well, I'm not sure about his bein' a c-c-c-Christian." "Do you spell it T-o-m or T-h-o-m?" "Th-that depinds on t-t-taste, sor." "Bah! you're a fool!" "Thank yer honour, and I'm also an I-I-Irish m-man as sure me name's Flinders."

"On M-Monday mornin', sor." "Then of course you don't know anything about the fight that took place there on Monday night!" "D-don't I, sor?" "Why don't you answer whether you do or not?" said Stalker, beginning to lose temper. "Sh-shure yer towld me th-that I d-d-don't know, an I'm too p-p-purlite to c-contradic' yer honour." "Bah! you're a fool." "Ye t-t-towld me that before, sor."

It was the "White Rabbit," named, said Sprague, after his favorite character in a book. Spook crawled under a seat as soon as he saw Captain Bannister. "G-G-Guns again!" said he; "I t-told you s-so!" "Come out!" I said, "come out quick! It's all right, these are my friends. That is Captain Bannister." "The one wh-who owns this b-boat?" "Yes." "D-Do you c-call th-that all r-right?"

"I, Caradoc Smith-Wentworth, can't think of going to stand watch for a gang of siz-seasick navvies an' a t-toady American Yankee Not!" he reiterated and laughed in tipsy irony. A flush of anger went over Madden. He reached down suddenly and caught up the demijohn. "You you bet' not drink th-that, y-you little bossy Yankee; it-it'll m-make you d-drunk." "You sot!" trembled Madden.

"I c-can't explain it, even to myself, Marcella. But I I th-think it w-was because I g-got a bit huffy with the idea th-that I was depending on you for everything. I f-felt as if I was tied to your apron strings. I felt as if I was being a g-good little b-b-boy, you know. So I thought I'd kick a bit! But I w-was trying damned hard before. You know I was."