Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 15, 2025
Flynn that she longed to clasp her round the neck, longed as she had never done in her life to lay her head upon some motherly breast and pour out her heart. But it was not to be now. Secrecy was her duty still. "Can't ye speak to y're ould fool of a cook, sir?" Mrs. Flynn said again, as the Seigneur made way for her to leave the shop.
"Y're a guid lad," said the Scot demurely; "y're just as decent a body as ever I forgathered wi' and I'm thinking it's a sin to let ye gang twa miles for mairchandeeze whan ye can hae it a hantle cheaper at your ain door." "Can I? I don't know what you mean." "Ye dinna ken what I mean? Maybe no." Mr. McLaughlan fell into thought a while, and the grog being finished he proposed a stroll.
His tone had assumed a roughness hardly in keeping with the gentle, reflective manner in which he had talked of his "flower." "Tresler," he went on, "y're good stuff, but y' ain't good 'nough to dust that gal's boots, no not by a sight. Meanin' no offense. But she needs the help o' some one as'll dig at them weeds standin'. See? Which means you.
Then I began to boast of the performance and to warn Tim that on the following Sunday afternoon I should explain my success to the men in the bunk-house. "Yes, yes, indeed, yer honour," said Tim, "y're a janyus! There's no doubt about that at all, at all! But " "Go on," I said. "I was jist switherin'," said Tim, "what a wontherful thing ut is that a man kin always hev worruk whin he invints ut."
Fitzpatrick, and she was prepared to view Paulina's insensibility to moral distinctions in a more lenient light, when a new idea suddenly struck her: "But y're man; how does he stand it? Tell me that." The two Galician women gazed at each other in silence. At length Anka replied with manifest reluctance: "She got no man here. Her man in Russia." "What!" exclaimed Mrs.
He had evidently been listening. "Ye didn't hear what y're ould fool of a cook was sayin'," she added to the Seigneur, as Rosalie shook her head and answered: "No letters, Madame dear." Rosalie timidly added the dear, for there was something so great-hearted in Mrs.
When he give Jim Billings his time last week, he says to him, says he, 'Jim, I'm sorry for y'. Not because I'm fir'in' y', says he, 'but because y're such a loafer that y're no good to yerself nor to anybody else y're a disgrace to the Mill, says he, 'and to every honest working man in it. An' Jim, he never give a word back just hung his head an' got out of sight like a dog with his tail between his legs after a good swift kick."
'Tis good, darlin'! You'll not mind Mary Flynn callin' you darlin', though y'are postmistress, an' 'll be more than that more than that wan day or Mary Flynn's a fool. Aye, more than that y'll be, darlin', and y're eyes like purty brown topazzes and y're cheeks like roses-shure, is there anny lether for Mary Flynn, darlin'?" she hastily added as she saw the Seigneur standing in the doorway.
Y're jest gittun' ready to preach, 'n' I'm ready to give ye my support." "That's the talk," said Councill. "I'm with ye on that." Pill shook his head. The painful silence which followed was broken by the effusive voice of Wheat: "Let us pray and remember our lost brother." The urgings of the people were of no avail. Mr.
"Say," he cried, his eyes glaring fiercely and embracing the whole party with a great, comprehensive roll, "you fellers is like a crowd o' coyotes around a bone. I 'lows Tresler ain't an a'mighty deal better'n a bone about now, but his lugs ain't deef. Y're jest a gorl-darned lot o' oneddicated hoboes."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking