Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 7, 2025
Can't help it; I must," he cried impatiently. "My throat's as dry as a sawpit." Dipping the shell as he still held the jar sideways he brought it up again more than half-full. "Too much," he said softly. "Fair-play's a jewel;" and carefully and slowly he let a portion of the precious water trickle back into the bottom of the jar. "That's about half," he said, with a judicial look.
"Why, Ginger, old chap," ses Bill, with a 'earty smile, "wot are you all three in one bed for?" "We was a bit cold," ses Ginger. "Cold?" ses Bill. "Wot, this weather? We 'ad a bit of a spree last night, old man, didn't we? My throat's as dry as a cinder." "It ain't my idea of a spree," ses Ginger, sitting up and looking at 'im.
"LORD!" ejaculated Heise, stopping a yard or so from the body, and bending down to peer into the gray face with its brown lips. "By God! he's killed her." "Who?" "Zerkow, by God! he's killed her. Cut her throat. He always said he would." "Zerkow?" "He's killed her. Her throat's cut. Good Lord, how she did bleed! By God! he's done for her in good shape this time."
"Why, Ginger, old chap," ses Bill, with a 'earty smile, "wot are you all three in one bed for?" "We was a bit cold," ses Ginger. "Cold?" ses Bill. "Wot, this weather? We 'ad a bit of a spree last night, old man, didn't we? My throat's as dry as a cinder." "It ain't my idea of a spree," ses Ginger, sitting up and looking at 'im.
And now that the master and the quality had made their appearance, of course the drink should soon follow, and in a short time the hints to that effect began to thicken. "Thunder and turf, Jemmy, but this is dry work; my throat's like a lime-burner's wig for want of a drop o' something to help me for the cheerin'."
"La, la," she said, with a whimsical quirk of the head, and no apparent relevancy: "Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home, Your house is on fire, and your children all gone." The remedy was good. Tarboe's eyes came again to their natural liveliness, and Bissonnette said: "My throat's like a piece of sand-paper."
Then turning to the Resident he continued: "How have you done, sir?" "Nothing of any value," replied Norton "Have you finished? We're thinking of going back now." "Yes, sir; I'm through. By Jove, I'm thirsty. I could do with a drink, couldn't you, Ray?" "Rather. My throat's like a lime-kiln. We'll join Mrs. Norton and then have an iced drink while the camels are being saddled."
There were those who administered with sublime faith doses too small for mathematical estimate; those who with equal faith administered boluses to the throat's capacity for deglutition; those who fully believed in whiskey as nourishment, that milk is liquid food, and who with tremendous faith and forceful hands administered both until human stomachs were reduced to barren wastes and death would result from starvation aggravated by disease.
There's nothing like opin-speakin'. Orth'ris, ye scutt, let me put me oi to that bottle, for my throat's as dhry as whin I thought I wud get a kiss from Annie Bragin. An' that's fourteen years gone! Eyah! Cork's own city an' the blue sky above ut an' the times that was the times that was!"
He had an unblushing candour about his own worldly ambition, with a tremendous brogue; and prided himself on exaggerating deliberately both of these excellences. 'The top of the morning to ye, Mr. Smith. Ye haven't such a thing as a cegar about ye? I've been preaching to school-children till me throat's as dry as the slave of a lime-burner's coat.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking