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Updated: May 15, 2025
In which the adventures in the wagon are continued, and we become more puzzled with our new companions We leave off talking Latin, and enter into an engagement. Timothy and I took his advice, and were soon fast asleep. I was awakened the next morning by feeling a hand in my trouser's pocket. I seized it, and held it fast. "Now just let go my hand, will you?" cried a lachrymal voice.
Thus left alone, Losely and Rugge looked at each other with a shy and yet cunning gaze, Rugge's hands in his trouser's pockets, his head thrown back; Losely's hands in voluntarily expanded, his head bewitchingly bent forward, and a little on one side. "Sir," said Rugge, at length, "what do you say to a chop and a pint of wine? Perhaps we could talk more at our ease elsewhere.
It's ridiculous because well, because a ruby as big as a trouser's button is ridiculous. You can't get over that. There is a story connected with this one centuries and things, and something about the woman the first Walderhurst had it made for.
He had felt cold and thought it would be warm inside Mr. Morris' trouser's leg. However, Billy never did any real mischief, thanks to Miss Laura's training. She began to punish him just as soon as he began to tear and worry things. The first thing he attacked was Mr. Morris' felt hat. The wind blew it down the hall one day, and Billy came along and began to try it with his teeth.
He might have thrown himself at the widow's feet, been accepted, and then returned to town a jolly, thriving wooer. The signora's jokes were bitter enough to Mr Slope, but they were quite as bitter to Mr Arabin. He still stood leaning against the fire-place, fumbling with his hands in his trouser's pockets. 'Come, come, Mr Slope, don't be so bashful, continued the signora.
Having done so and having drawn up one trouser's leg to save the crease, crossed the leg and at last put the pipe stem into his mouth, he regarded Florrie from the cool and serene height of his superior age. "If you refer to Mr. Rickard," he said aloofly, "I may say that he is not a friend . . . yet. I just met him this afternoon.
Silvey drew off one moist mitten, and fumbled in his trouser's pockets with a perplexed frown. Neither was it in his coat, nor in his blouse. Where had it been left? "S'pose we lost it when we took that spill?" There was another fruitless search before the boys went back to the grocery corner.
The cry for progress, for material advancement, for moral and social betterment, is stifled, that everybody may have breath to shout for a flapping trouser's leg worn by a degraded old sot.
Thomas MacDougall wanted to be shown some of Pete's gold, and so remarked; whereupon the latter thrust his hand into his trouser's pockets, well hidden by the fur parkie he wore, took out a poke and threw it upon the table.
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