United States or Gambia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Olafaksoah strode forward with great steps, scowling. He critically surveyed the loads of blubber and gleaming walrus tusks. "Good haul, boy good haul! Game's been pretty scarce all along the coast. It's lucky we got here in time, eh, comrades? What'll you take" he turned to Ootah "I don't know your name." He spoke in broken Eskimo. "Ootah," Annadoah whispered, "that is his name.
"If you're as hungry as that after just an afternoon's signal practice, think what'll happen when we've been hiking all day, and covered our little forty or fifty miles?" suggested Andy, chuckling. "Oh! come off, Andy, you don't really mean that, do you?" called out Eben over his shoulder. "I'm good for twenty-five miles, I think; but you give me a cold feeling when you talk about fifty.
"You can't root me out of a good thing with a little wad like that, Parson," he said, rising and going behind the counter and briskly wiping off its surface more from habit than necessity. "I've just met an old friend of mine from back in God's Country, and we was just talking over old times. What'll you have?"
'Twice over! rejoins the other 'Done! replies the taker. 'Ar'll take five to one agin the Daddy! 'I'll lay six! 'What'll any one lay 'gin Parvo? And so they raise such an uproar that the squeak, squeak, squeak of the 'Devil among the tailors' is hardly heard.
Run along to bed, there's a dear." Daniel obediently rose. "But what are you goin' to do, Gertie?" he asked. "I don't know what I am going to do. First of all I am going to see and find out for myself. Then I shall decide. One thing seems certain: I shall not go back to college." "Not go back! Not go back to college? Why, it's your last term! What'll your mother say? What'll John say?"
"Well," he said, discontentedly, "I've got to give you something or other for Christmas. What'll it be?" "Nothing at all, Peter," Susan protested, "just don't say anything more about it!" He meditated, scowling. "Are you dated for to-morrow night?" he asked. "Yes," Susan said simply. The absence of explanation was extremely significant.
"Why, that you're going to stand for Parliament." "That's true enough," he said, swelling a little. "Could anything be finer?" she breathed. "What are you going to do?" "I'll have to contest two-three hopeless seats. Then they'll give me something safe." "But what will you do?" He didn't follow. "What'll you do after that?" She towered above him, her cheeks flushed with intellectual passion.
The front of a square building in the Court-house Square was bright with lights; and figures were passing in and out of the Main Street doors. She remembered that this was the jail. "Claudine!" The voice of the husband of Claudine was like the voice of one lamenting over Jerusalem. "But, Joe, if they git me, what'll she do? She can't hold her job no longer not after this...."
What'll you have?" said Rocky. And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and then decide not to say it after all. After we had had an hour of this wild dissipation, Aunt Isabel said she wanted to go home. In the light of what Rocky had been telling me, this struck me as sinister.
"I've told him what'll happen, an' he won't dare hit you any more," she comforted. "If he does, I'll end him. I will! I'll bring the police. I'll show 'em the places where he hides his whiskey. I'll I'll put him in jail, if I die for it!" The woman's bony hands clutched at one of Nada's. "No, no, you mustn't do that," she pleaded. "He was good to me once, a long time ago, Nada.
Word Of The Day