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Updated: June 26, 2025
Jack, Nat Anderson and John Smith found themselves alone at least for a few minutes. "Well, this is like old times," said Jack. "Wow!" exclaimed John in true Indian tone. "Heap big time!" "Reminds me of a circus broken loose," commented Nat. "But say, Jack, our train goes in an hour. Are we going to take it or stay over " "Not on your life!" exclaimed Jack.
Stealing, in such a case, was no robbery. And so forth, and so forth sentiments which prevailed pretty generally in the army. Besides, there was fun in the adventure; and with boys a little fun covers a multitude of sins. The fun, however, was considerably dampened, on Frank's part, as he approached the house. "Bow, wow!" suddenly spoke the deep, dreadful tones of the rebel mastiff.
"Wow! Look at that one! That's a monster!" "That must be the ninth wave." "What do you mean by the ninth wave, Jack?" "Why, Arnold, don't you know that every third wave is bigger than the two preceding it and that every ninth wave is bigger than the preceding eight?" queried Jack Stanley.
And when, again and again, the fool, attempting to convey his gratitude for some kindness she had shown him mumbled over the words "The wow o' Rivven the wow o' Rivven," the wonder would return as to what could be the idea associated with them in his mind, but she made no advance towards their explanation.
If you ran a funeral, center, the corpse would spoil on your hands. Wow! Fumble! Drop on that ball. Drop on it! Hogboom, you'd fumble a loving-cup. Use your hand instead of your jaw to catch that ball. It isn't good to eat. That's four chances you've had. I could lose two games a day if I had you all the time. Now try that signal again low, you linemen; there's no girls watching you.
"Hold that water, you " "Hold that water!" "Turn her on, I say." "Turn her " "Wow turn that nozzle the other way " And then the water comes with a mighty rush, yanking the nozzlemen this way and that and sweeping firemen and common citizens aside as if they were mere straws. As a rule, this is the climax, and the end comes rapidly.
The fox put his paws under the sassafras root. And he pulled and he pulled and he pulled, and finally, with a double extra strong pull, he pulled up the root. But it came up so suddenly, just as when you break the point off your pencil, that the fox keeled over backward in a peppersault and somersault also. "Oh, wow!" cried the fox, as he bumped his nose. "What happened?"
"What happened?" gasped Landy the first thing, for he was digging his fat knuckles into his heavy eyes as though trying to rout the last atom of drowsiness from them. "It was me," replied Lil Artha, promptly; "I fired my gun!" "What at?" demanded Elmer, thrilled in spite of himself. "A creeping man!" came the astounding answer. "Wow! what's all that, Lil Artha?"
Once clear of the crowds, Henry Seeley hurried toward the training quarters. His head was up, his shoulders squared, and he walked with the free stride of an athlete. Mr. Richard Giddings danced madly across to him: "Afraid to see him play were you, you silly old fool? He is a chip of the old block. He didn't know when he was licked. Wow, wow, wow, blood will tell! Come along with us, Harry."
How are you getting on?" "I was arst," said Uncle Pentstemon, and brooded for a moment. "I goes about seeing wonders," he added, and then in a sort of enhanced undertone: "One of 'er girls gettin' married. That's what I mean by wonders. Lord's goodness! Wow!" "Nothing the matter?" asked Johnson. "Got it in the back for a moment. Going to be a change of weather I suppose," said Uncle Pentstemon.
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