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David, or say twenty minutes; I shall do very well in that. And by the way," he adds, detaining me by the coat, "what is it you drink in the morning, whether ale or wine?" "To be frank with you, sir," says I, "I drink nothing else but spare, cold water." "Tut-tut," says he, "that is fair destruction to the stomach, take an old campaigner's word for it.
He went to move it; in the act he read the heading: 'This is the last will and testament of me Sir Anthony Cornelius Soane, baronet, of Estcombe Hall, in the county of Wilts. 'Tut-tut! said the tutor. 'That is not Soane's will, that is his grandfather's. And between idleness and curiosity, not unmingled with surprise, he read the will to the end.
Take my advice, and be silent first and converted afterwards. Good morning. Tut-tut!" He stopped the outflow of her alarmed gratitude. "Didn't I advise you to be silent? Creep, Mrs. Milcher. Creep!" "Well, what have you said to her? What does she say? What have you done with her?" questioned Eve excitedly, who had almost finished dressing when Mr.
"Tut-tut," he said aloud, "little girls like you are too young for such nonsense. You ought to think about about your dolls, and ah, your needlework not sweethearts!" "You say that now!" cried Dulcie indignantly. "You know I'm not a little girl, and I've left off playing with dolls almost. Oh, Dick, don't be unkind! You haven't changed your mind, have you?"
"You've stolen my engine," Pennington almost screamed. "I'll have the law on you for grand larceny." "Tut-tut! You don't know who stole your engine. For all you know, your own engine-crew may have run it down here." "I'll attend to you, sir," Pennington replied, and he turned to enter Mayor Poundstone's little flivver. "Not to-night, at least," Bryce retorted gently.
"You'd better ask that o' Young Zeb, mister," said Prudy. "Why?" "You owe your life to'n, I hear." "When next you see him you can put two questions. Ask him in the first place if he saved it at my request." "Tut-tut. A man likes to live, whether he axes for it or no," grunted Elias Sweetland. "And what the devil do you know about it?" demanded the stranger. "I reckon I know what a man's like."
The line runs right acrost my simblin' patch, an' backs up ag'in' my hoss-stable." "Tooby shore tooby shore!" exclaimed the squire. "Tut-tut! What am I doin'? My mind is drappin' loose like seed-ticks from a shumake bush. Tooby shore, it's the Mathis lot. Mr. Wooderd, Mr. Poteet Mr. Poteet, Mr. Wooderd; lem me make you interduced, gents." Mr.
David, or say twenty minutes; I shall do very well in that. And by the way," he adds, detaining me by the coat, "what is it you drink in the morning, whether ale or wine?" "To be frank with you, sir," says I, "I drink nothing else but spare, cold water?" "Tut-tut," says he, "that is fair destruction to the stomach, take an old campaigner's word for it.
"Tut-tut. Modern gentlemen are not so formal; they are creatures of impulse and take a pride in it. He spoke. We settle that. But where did you get this tale of a refusal?" "I have it from Dr. Middleton." "From Dr. Middleton?" shouted Lady Busshe. "The Middletons are here," said Lady Culmer. "What whirl are we in?" Lady Busshe got up, ran two or three steps and seated herself in another chair.
And the greatest Dragon of all, who was just in front of the Green Monkey, answered in a still deeper voice: "It is some foolish animal from Outside." "Is it good to eat?" inquired a smaller Dragon beside the great one. "I'm hungry." "Hungry!" exclaimed all the Dragons, in a reproachful chorus; and then the great one said chidingly: "Tut-tut, my son! You've no reason to be hungry at this time."
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