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Talking about money and such a girl as that, it's it's what-d'ye-call-'em you know what I mean I ain't good at talking sacrilege, then. If she'd have me, I'd take and sweep a crossing, that I would!" "Poor Fo! I don't think that would tempt her," Pen said, eyeing his friend with a great deal of real good-nature and pity. "She is not a girl for love and a cottage."
Here is two hundred and ten guineas by the tale in this here canvas bag; and upon this scrap of paper no, avast that's my discharge from the parish for Moll Trundle ey, here it is an order for thirty pounds upon the what-d'ye-call-'em in the city; and two tickets for twenty-five and eighteen, which I lent, d'ye see, to Sam Studding to buy a cargo of rum, when he hoisted the sign of the commodore at St.
Why d'ye grudge the name to our paper?" "By any other name it would smell as sweet," said Wagg. "I'll have ye remember its name's not what-d'ye-call-'em, Mr. Wagg," said Shandon. "You know its name well enough, and and you know mine."
I begged from a little beast of a schoolboy, and he forked out a bit of twine, and asked me to make a clove hitch; I did, too, I know I did, but he said it wasn't, he said it was a granny's knot, and I was a what-d'ye-call-'em, and he would give me in charge.
"Why don't you ask Sumph to publish 'em in your new paper the what-d'ye-call-'em hay, Shandon?" bawled out Wagg. "Why don't you ask him to publish 'em in your old magazine, the Thingumbob?" Shandon replied. "Is there going to be a new paper?" asked Wenham, who knew perfectly well, but was ashamed of his connection with the press.
Lambert offered him a penny for his thoughts, he said, "That he thought, Young Norval, Douglas, What-d'ye-call-'em, the fellow in white satin who looked as old as his mother was very lucky to be able to distinguish himself so soon.
What are you going to do in the winter? You don't intend to stay down here, or, I suppose, to go on writing for that what-d'ye-call-'em that newspaper?" "Warrington and I are going abroad again, sir, for a little, and then we shall see what is to be done," Arthur replied. "And you'll let Fairoaks, of course?
"And there is good accommodation at the what-d'ye-call-'em arms, and a civil landlord?" This I said by way of saying something, for the man stared very hard at me. "Very decent accommodation. They ca' her Christie Steele." I almost started at the sound. Christie Steele! Christie Steele was my mother's body-servant, her very right hand, and, between ourselves, something like a viceroy over her.
Look at father's old head bobbing up and down! Wouldn't he do for Sir Roger de Coverley? How do you do, Uncle Charles? I say, M'Collop, how gets on the Duke of What-d'ye-call-'em starving in the castle? Gandish says it's very good." The lad retires to a group of artists. Mr. Honeyman comes up with a faint smile playing on his features, like moonlight on the facade of Lady Whittlesea's Chapel.
I begged from a little beast of a schoolboy, and he forked out a bit of twine, and asked me to make a clove hitch; I did, too, I know I did, but he said it wasn't, he said it was a granny's knot, and I was a what-d'ye-call-'em, and he would give me in charge.
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