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"I could go out quite safely by the door in the tower, but then who would fire off 'King George'?" "Toc! Toc!" came the sounds. And then a pause as if the woodsman had straightened himself up and was wiping his brow. The timing of the strokes was very slow. Probably, therefore, the labour itself was fatiguing.
Toc, that I feel bound to settle, and it's this: That you can't be married till you've got a good bit of ground under cultivation, so that you may be able to keep your wife comfortably without callin' on her to work too hard. You've bin a busy enough fellow, I admit, since ever you was able to do a hand's turn, but you haven't got a garden of your own yet.
Thereupon the Wolf cuts across the wood, and in five minutes arrives at the Grandmother's house. He knocks at the door: toc, toc. No answer. He knocks louder. Nobody. Then he stands up on end, puts his two fore-paws on the latch and the door opens. Not a soul in the house.
Had I been Giselle, I should not have liked it. I know nothing more elegant or more solemn than the entrance of a bridal party into the Madeleine, but we shall have to be content with Saint-Augustin. Still, the toilettes, as they pass up the aisle, even there, are very effective, and the decoration of the tall, high altar is magnificent. Toc! Toc!
“Where they will take me for a ghost. Thank you! is there not still paradise?” They were there at the end of a short hour. “Toc, toc!” “Who is there?” “The wheelwright of Coq,” said the great golfer. “Ah! my lad,” said St. Peter, half opening the door, “I am really grieved. St. Antony told you long ago you had better ask for the salvation of your soul.” “That is true, St.
Toc toc toc; the slow tapping of a German machine-gun sounds from the direction he had fondly imagined Battalion Head-quarters to be; the swish of bullets come nearer as the Hun sweeps the ground; a flare goes up, showing holes. Another compulsory descent; a phut! as a bullet passes over his head, and the swishing passes on.
When Father Adams was invited, he accepted the invitation heartily, and, slapping Toc on his huge broad back, wished him joy of the "noo babby," and hoped he might live to see it grow up to have "a babby of its own similar to itself, d'ye see?" at which remark Toc laughed with evident delight. Well, the whole thing was arranged, and they proceeded to carry the picnic into effect.
A few seconds later John Adams, who had gone to sleep with his nose flattened on the Bible, was startled by the bursting in of his door. "Hallo, Toc!" he cried, starting up; "what's wrong, eh?" "All right, father, but the ravine is bearin' down on us."
"Dear little Jim," said Adams, "I do believe he's got more o' God's book into him, small though he is, than all the rest of us put together. An' he's not far wrong, neither, about May. She's worth a dozen or'nary girls. Now then, lend a hand wi' the canoe. Are you ready, Mistress Toc?" "Quite," replied the heroine of the day, with a pleased glance in Thursday's somewhat sheepish face.
He must come if you only heave with a will." "What, father, do you mean that I'm to lay hold o' that tooth wi' them pincers an' wrench it bodily out of your head?" "That's just about what I do mean, Toc," returned Adams, with a grim smile. "Moreover, I want you to make no bungle of it. Don't let your narves come into play.
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