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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Thank you," said John. After supper there was more singing in the drawing room, but it was not of a very classical order. Something short and taking for violin and piano was followed by an announcement from Herr Schlitz. "I zing you a zong," he said.
Warrington made a successful cast not far from the lily-pods. Zing! went the reel. But by the pressure of his thumb he brought the runaway to a sudden halt. The tip of the rod threatened to break! Hooked! Patty swung round the canoe, which action gave the angler freer play. Ah, wasn't that beautiful! Two feet out of the water! Here he comes, but not more swiftly than the reel can take him.
You shall zee I shall make my compliments, and shall cut out zat one young friend what is so far away. You shall zing me some grand music, so full of ze love, and ze poetry, so as my heart shall lift up wiz joy." Here Mr. Gusher flourished his hands and executed several waltzing steps, as an expression of how his feelings were excited by music.
"The music has been a great treat to me," remarked John. "I have heard nothing of the sort for two years." "You have quite contributed your share of the entertainment," said Mrs. Benson. "You and I together," he responded, smiling. "You have got a be-oodifool woice," said Herr Schlitz, speaking with a mouthful of salad, "und you zing ligh a moosician, und you bronounce your vorts very goot."
The lock, rusty, flew off with a zing! The window crashed up. I tumbled in at one leap. My whole life was saying, "this is your woman, your first and only woman go where she is and take her to yourself!" That avalanche of me bursting in without denial, struck little Hildreth Baxter dumb with interest. She had been kneeling by her bed, sobbing. Now she rose and was sitting on it.
It is certain death to stay here longer; why not lie down, wait till the worst is over and be able to fight again it is useless, hopeless it is suicide to attempt such a task." Then just ahead of us I saw Captain Straight crawling slowly but surely, and through the "Zing!" of bullets I heard his voice, fainter but still earnest and full of courage, cry out: "Come on, lads come on!"
"Bien!" said the Chevalier, shaking him off lightly. "All a-r-r-right." Then, in that incomparable baritone, which had so often enthralled thousands, he moved away, trolling the first verse of the Princess's own faint, sweet, sad song of the "Lotus Lily," that thrilled McFeckless even through the Chevalier's marked French accent: "Oh, a hard zing to get is ze Lotus Lillee!
No, I said Double-three Wall." Telephone. "Buzz! Ting! Zut!" Ravenslee. "Sounded different, did it? Well, I want " Telephone. "Buzz! Zut! Ting!" Ravenslee. "Thanks. Hello, that Thirty-three Wall? Dana and Anderson's Office? Good! I want to speak with Mr. Anderson say Mr. Ravenslee." Telephone. "Zing!" Ravenslee. "Thanks. That you, Anderson?" Telephone. "Pang!" Ravenslee. "Thanks very well!
The McDaubrecq's fling!... The turkey trot!... And the bunny hug!... And the grizzly bear!... The Tyrolean dance: tra-la-liety!... Allons, enfants de la partie!... Zing, boum, boum! Zing, boum, boum!..."
Through the woods the high-noted 'zing zing' of bullets sounds like a swarm of angry bees, while high overhead shrapnel and shell go shrieking on their way. Here and there you may see spades full of earth being thrown up as if by invisible hands, marking the onward work of the German gopher-like pioneers in their subterranean warfare. That is the Argonne forest.
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