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Updated: August 28, 2024
He scrambled up, found a club, and chased the barking Barnacle all about the camp. The dog would not be chased away. Perhaps he had observed Lizzie opening the lunch baskets. Besides, he seemed to take everything Purt tried to do to him as a game of play. "Do leave the dog alone, Purt!" exclaimed Lil, at last. "You're making yourself perfectly ridiculous."
His Excellency señor don What's-his-Name was in their eyes, a mud-eel, and in their lingo a congrio; the illustrious orator What-do-you-call-him, who took up a sixteen-page sheet in the Congressional Record every time he spoke, was a percebe, a "barnacle on the keel of Progress"; every act of parliament struck them as a bit of balderdash, though, to hold their jobs, they praised it to the skies in their articles.
"My soul is sailing through the sea, But the Past is heavy and hindereth me, The Past hath crusted cumbrous shells That hold the flesh of cold sea-mells About my soul. The huge waves wash, the high waves roll, Each barnacle clingeth and worketh dole, And hindereth me from sailing! "Old Past, let go and drop i' the sea Till fathomless waters cover thee!
An average witness would have been seduced by the Humph? into an affirmative answer, But Ferdinand Barnacle looked knowingly at Bar as he strolled up-stairs, and gave him no answer at all.
"Mr Barnacle has a perfect right to see the petty-cash account," said Mr Merrett, looking, however, by no means pleased. "Why don't you examine his desk?" said Hawkesbury, pointing to me; "he is the one to suspect, not me. Why don't you search his desk?"
The clerk, it seemed, being a little doubtful of the person who presented the cheque, had required him to write his name on the back; and the fictitious signature "A. Robinson" was accordingly given in Masham's hand. "That seems clear," said the detective. "I see," said Mr Barnacle, looking again at the envelope I had given him, "this letter is addressed to the place where Smith lives.
If you ain't a-hidin' of that thar feller, ye won't mind my pokin' around a bit, will yer?" Laura did not say a word. She stood up and looked over at Liz Bean. For a moment the maid-of-all-work seemed petrified. Then she dove for the growling Barnacle. She untied the rope with which he was fastened. "Hello!" exclaimed the puffing sheriff. "What's that for?"
It was Mr Merrett who appeared at the door with an extremely long face; and looking round the office, fixed his eyes on me, and said, "Batchelor come in here!" I obeyed. Instead of going in as usual before me, he waited till I had entered, and then followed me, closing the door behind him. What on earth does it all mean? Mr Barnacle sat looking straight before him through his spectacles.
I glanced nervously towards the car door now and then, half expecting to see him come after me. We had passed one or two way-stations, and I had quieted down a good deal, when I began to feel as if somebody was looking steadily at the back of my head. I turned round involuntarily, and there was Sailor Ben again, at the farther end of the car, wrestling with the Rivermouth Barnacle as before.
Would you know him if you saw him?" "Know him? Oh no no fear I know the beauty!" "Well, what sort of looking man is he?" asked Mr Barnacle. "He's a ugly bloke with a mug like yourn, and a 'orseshoe pin in 'is weskit." "Yes? And what colour is his hair?" "Carrots!" That was quite enough. This unromantic portrait corresponded sufficiently nearly with the description already given.
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