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'Preserve us! he repeated in quite another tone that of concern. 'But I'm rael glad to see ye, lad, he went on somewhat uneasily, 'an' yer aunt'll be unco pleased. Come awa' in, come awa' in! Ye've gotten a bit leave, I preshume. An' ye'll be needin' yer denner eh? But we'll sune see to that. 'Mphm! Ay! Jist so! Eh I suppose ye hadna time to write or wire but what's the odds?
"The muneecipal linx." "Tell me, fellow, why do you talk that way?" "Whitway?" "Why, like that. The way you're talking." "Hoots, mon!" said the charioteer. "His Majesty King Merolchazzar may his handicap decrease! hae passit a law that a' his soobjects shall do it. Aiblins, 'tis the language spoken by The Pro, on whom be peace! Mphm!" Ascobaruch sat back limply, his head swimming.
Then get off the line, and stay there! THE JOVIAL VOICE. Yes, sir. THE EAGER VOICE. I am O.C. Beer Company. They are shelling my front parapet, at L8, with pretty heavy stuff. I want retaliation, please. THE JOVIAL VOICE. Very good, sir. Whish! Whish! Whish! SECOND CHATTY SIGNALLER. Did ye hear that, Jimmy? Mphm! That'll sorrt them! THE F.O.O. Is that C Battery? THE JOVIAL VOICE. Yes.
You nearly hit his serene graciousness the King!" "Mphm!" said the bearded man, nonchalantly, and began to wave his hoe mystically over another stone. Into the King's careworn face there had crept a look of interest, almost of excitement. "What god does he hope to propitiate by these rites?" he asked. "The deity, I learn from your Majesty's admiral is called Gowf." "Gowf? Gowf?"
Indeed, in these days of turbines " Robin put down his cup rather emphatically, and said "Mphm." "Then you would organise a service of fast turbine steamers running all over the canal systems of the country?" "Exactly. Or let us say er launches," said Dubberley. "I must not overstate my case." "Travelling twenty miles an hour?" "Say fifteen, sir," said Dubberley magnanimously.
Presently, however, the pacific Cosh, who in his hours of leisure was addicted to mild philosophical rumination, gave a fresh turn to the conversation. "Mphm!" he observed thoughtfully. "They say that in a war every man has a bullet waiting for him some place or other, with his name on it! Sooner or later, he gets it. Aye! Mphm!"
It is related of the illustrious Sandy McHoots that when, on the occasion of his winning the British Open Championship, he was interviewed by reporters from the leading daily papers as to his views on Tariff Reform, Bimetallism, the Trial by Jury System, and the Modern Craze for Dancing, all they could extract from him was the single word "Mphm!"
Then he returned to the other side of the house. "How many men are serving that gun?" he said to M'Snape. "Can you see?" "Only two, sirr, I think. I cannot see them, but that wee breastwork will not cover more than a couple of men." "Mphm," observed Angus thoughtfully. "I expect they have been left behind to hold on. Have you a bomb about you?"
"Arrange today for my becoming a member." Sandy McHoots arrived in due course, and was shown into the private office. "Mr. McHoots?" said Vincent Jopp. "Mphm!" said the Open Champion. "I have sent for you, Mr. McHoots, because I hear that you are the greatest living exponent of this game of golf." "Aye," said the champion, cordially. "I am that." "I wish you to teach me the game.
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