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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Arrah, Molly," she cried, "will yez luke at that now. The alarrum is jist afther goin' off, an' it's eight o'clock! Whativer will happen to us?" Molly jumped up in great excitement, and the two maids hastily dressed and ran down-stairs.
There was the happiest sense of good humor and good-will, the far-away echo of laughter, the tinkling of glass and china and silver, the faint delicious aroma, through opening doors, of plentiful good cheer. "Whativer kept you so long, dearies? Run away and don yourselves, and make yourselves gay and fine. Christmas comes but once a year. And don't keep dinner waiting; mind that now!
"Aye, yestherday afthernoon, sor, an' they've been raymanded, whativer that may mane it ought to have been rayprimanded, I'm thinkin', an' a cat-o'-nine-tails, if they had their desarts till next Tuesday!
He leapt out of bed and ran to the window to see his favorite dragging about the moonlit yard, the dark head down, the proud tail for once lowered, the lithe limbs wooden, heavy, unnatural altogether pitiful. In a moment he was downstairs and out to his friend's assistance. "Whativer is't, Owd Un?" he cried in anguish.
Mulloy lingered with Gallup as Frank turned away. "Whativer is atin' yez, Ephie?" demanded Barney. "Phwoy don't yez spake up and tell the truth?" "Haow do yeou know I ain't told the truth?" asked Gallup, with mingled offense and shame. "Oi've bunked with yez for a year.
Here's the Cape Argus it'll be in here whativer it is." With great deliberation Mr. Hector O'Flaherty put on a pair of spectacles and folded the paper carefully round, so as to bring the principal page to the front. Then he cleared his throat, with the pomposity which is inseparable with most men from the act of reading aloud. "Go it, boss!" cried his audience encouragingly.
You must larn that as quick as you can, Pat, for a poor cook wastes a sight, besides settin' dishes of stuff on the table that none but pigs can eat. And in most places the pigs would get their messes, but here we've got no pigs, and whativer you cook we've got to be eatin'. Andy was askin' for beans for to-morrow a bit ago. What's your ideas about bakin' beans, Pat? How would you do it?"
Kilpatrick's warm bed, crying for fear that she was going to be sent back to the poorhouse. "Maggie an' me's going to kape together awhile yet," said the good old woman fondly. "She's very handy for me, so she is. We 'on't part with 'ach other whativer befalls, so we 'on't," and Maggie looked up with a wistful smile, only half reassured. To her the shut-down seemed like the end of the world.
He left Ding Dong, or whativer 'tis ye call it, an' says he, 'Thank Gawd, he says, 'I'm where no man can give me his idees iv how to r-run a quiltin' party, an' call it war, he says. An' so he sint a man down in a divin' shute, an' cut th' cables, so's Mack cudden't chat with him. Thin he prances up to th' Spanish forts, an' hands thim a few oranges.
You'll only kape thim on, by takin' order with thim. Thrust me. Whativer have ye got in the basket?" Mrs. Tapping explained that she was using it to convey a kitten, born in her establishment, to Miss Druitt at thirty-four opposite, who had expressed anxiety to possess it. It was this kitten's expression of impatience with its position that had excited Mrs. Riley's curiosity.
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