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Updated: June 7, 2025
Master François looked at her for a moment with a curious pity. Then gently extricating himself from her embrace he called out, "Give me a wash of wine for my throat's parched with piping." Every man thrust his own mug towards Master François, beseeching him to drink of it, but he waved them all aside imperially. "Nay, I will have my own," he said. "Have we no landlord here?
But there's nothing BEHIND the voice. With a great singer the greatness is in what's behind the voice, not in the voice itself." "I don't believe a word of it," cried he violently. "You've been discouraged by a little cold. Everybody has colds. Why, in this climate the colds are always getting the Metropolitan singers down." "But they've got strong throats, and my throat's delicate."
"Queer my glims, if that be n't little Paul!" "Ay, Dummie, here I am! Not been long without being laid by the heels, you see! Life is short; we must make the best use of our time!" Upon this, Mr. "Vy, laus-a-me! if you be n't knocked o' the head! Your poll's as bloody as Murphy's face ven his throat's cut!"
I've been digging all night, and my throat's like a limeskin." "Digging, why where?" "Where? In Dead Man's Mount!" "In Dead Man's Mount?" said George. "Well, blow me, if that ain't a funny place to dig at on a night like this," and, too amazed to say anything more, he went off to get the milk.
"There's the laird's and saving the dear doctor's presence I must say his cousin is a damned queer fish, besides being as poor as he's cranky, and there are the two ministers, only one's away and the other's as dry as my own throat's getting. What do you say to a drink, doctor?" He grinned at Dr. Rendall with a malicious significance I could make nothing of.
The woman on the sofa, with the inflamed, red face, the bloodshot, painful-looking eyes, the loose mouth, looked helplessly upon the maid-of-all-work. "A little drop of something to quench my thirst before you go!" she implored. "I can't get up to fetch it for myself, as you know, Maria; and my throat's swelled up with being so parched." "And if you die of it, so much the better!"
Greedy fellow, to choose the largest! but, n'importe, it brought its punishment. Palliser and I having eaten carefully, were just beginning to feel uncomfortable, when up jumped Benton, holding his throat with both hands, crying, "My throat's full of pins. I'm choked." "We are poisoned, no doubt of it," said Palliser, in his turn. "I am choking likewise."
'Carte blanche, and charge it to me, says Mr. Duncan." "What kind is carte blanche, Tommie?" asked Andie Howe. "They'll tell you behind the bar," said Clancy. "Billie," ordered Andie, "just a little touch of carte blanche, will you, while Clancy's talking. He's the slowest man to begin that ever I see. Speeches speeches speeches, when your throat's full of gurry dry, salty gurry.
I should like one now, for that bruise you've made with your knuckles in my throat's quite big enough. It'll be black to-morrow." "Get up, Serge," said Marcus, letting his hand fall. "Thankye, my lad. I say, boy, I didn't think you were so strong." "Didn't you, Serge?" "No, boy. My word, it's just as if getting into your armour had stiffened you all over.
Torkingham stopped, and Sammy Blore spoke, 'Beg your pardon, sir, if you'll deal mild with us a moment. What with the wind and walking, my throat's as rough as a grater; and not knowing you were going to hit up that minute, I hadn't hawked, and I don't think Hezzy and Nat had, either, had ye, souls? 'I hadn't got thorough ready, that's true, said Hezekiah.
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