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Updated: June 24, 2025
"Related to the Epstein & Son Millinery Company, Broadway and Spring?" "Thertainly am. I happen to be the thon mythelf." "Was you in the surf this mornin', Bella? It was grand!" "No, Myra," replied her friend. "Mr. Epstein and me took a trip to Ocean View." "You missed the water this mornin'. It was fine and dandy!" volunteered Mr. Arnheim. "Me and Mr. Epstein are goin' this afternoon ain't we?"
I asked, with a feeling of shame which did honour to my heart. "Och, now, lave this! Boot! is it? Sure A cud kerry thon wee shilty ondher may oxther! Ye have a right till be givin' me a thrifle fur luck. A'll let ye aff we two notes." But after five minutes' more palaver, M'Nab agreed to an even swap. I had pen and ink in my pocket; my note-book supplied paper; and receipts were soon exchanged.
On crossing the bridge, we observed a man on one of the piers, spearing aiguilles de mer, a beautiful silvery fish, of which he had taken several. They were about two feet long, and of the shape of an eel, excepting in the form of their long picked heads and jaws, which correspond exactly with their name. The tunny is also caught in abundance near this part of the coast; and Vernet has introduced the fishery, from a lack of picturesque circumstances, into one of his sea-ports, painted by royal order. No other fish can better deserve this particular compliment, uniting, as it does, size, flavour, and the merits of both fish and flesh in a great degree. The "thon mariné" is its plainest and best preparation, and is preferable, with a dish of salad, to all the high-seasoned dishes which form a Provençal bill of fare; in short, if our national sirloin obtained knighthood, such a good lenten substitute as the tunny deserves canonization. I cannot say so much for the dish, common enough among Frenchmen, which a well-dressed man, the harlequin to a troop of comedians, was eating in the salle-
"Boys o' dear," he added reflectively, "she's jist sich another as may wee Dolly; an' A've been luckin' fur a match fur Dolly this menny's the day. How oul' is she, sur?" "Six, this spring." "Ay that! Ye wud n't be fur partin' we her, sur? A'm mortial covetious fur till git thon baste.
"Always am I wretched," she said, "save when sweet sleep falls on me. Now the wife of Thon, King of Egypt, gave me this gift when we were in Egypt, on our way to Troy, namely, a drug that brings sleep even to the most unhappy, and it is pressed from the poppy heads of the garland of the God of Sleep."
He pronounced the word with gusto, and I thought it suited with the scene. 'They're yowlin' for thon schooner, he went on, his thin, insane voice clearly audible in the shelter of the bank, 'an' she's comin' aye nearer, aye nearer, aye nearer an' nearer an' nearer; an' they ken't, the folk kens it, they ken wool it's by wi' them.
Man or woman or red-coated sojer itself, they'd need to be up gey an' early that would get the better o' her. A bird might be lang afore it could find time to build a nest in her ear, so it might. Eh! but, my poor lad, it's a sorry thing to think of ye lyin' the night through among the hard stones and me in my warm bed. Eh! but it grieves me sore whisht, boy, what's thon?"
Yin o' them will carry a mark on his mug to the day of his death, and lucky if he hasn't lost the sight of an eye. There'll be a hole in the breeks of the other that'll tak a quare width of cloth to make a patch for it. And, what's more, thon man'll no sit easy on his horse for a bit. They'll not be for chasing Master Neal the night any way.
This drug, of such sovereign power and virtue, had been given to Helen by Polydamna wife of Thon, a woman of Egypt, where there grow all sorts of herbs, some good to put into the mixing bowl and others poisonous. Moreover, every one in the whole country is a skilled physician, for they are of the race of Paeeon.
Hoo are ye gettin' on yersel'? An' thon queer deil o' a lassie? I canna mak' onything o' her. 'I'm getting on fine, thank you, Walter answered rather shortly. 'Good-night to you, and thank you. Maybe Liz will write to you. 'Very likely. I'll let ye ken, onyway. If she writes to onybody it'll be to me, Teen answered, with a kind of quiet pride.
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