United States or Cuba ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Their presence is attributed to the fact that some dace, brought there as live-baits for pike, escaped destruction and established the present stock. Sluggish and muddy rivers seem to produce the best dace. Chubb, which also possess many points to recommend them to the fisherman, will also do well in such rivers.
What were you thinking about that boat?" "I was thinking, uncle, suppose he had one." "But he hadn't one. Look here, sir; you are thinking something, and suspecting something." "Yes, uncle, I am; but I don't know what." "I suppose that's because you were prejudiced against the Spaniard by what Chubb said." "I suppose so, uncle. You know how he said he wouldn't trust that man a bit?" "Yes, yes."
"Did you notice anything queer in his eyes, Miss Keene?" asked Miss Chubb vivaciously. Miss Keene had noticed that his eyes were his best feature, albeit somewhat abstracted and melancholy; but, for some vague reason she could not explain herself, she answered hurriedly that she had seen nothing very particular in them. "Well," said Mrs.
"Yes, let him have a look," said Rodd hoarsely, and as the glass was passed the boy caught the sailor by the sleeve, and whispered, making Joe start and gaze at him inquiringly, before stooping down and giving his thigh a slap with his right hand. "Ay, ay, sir!" he whispered. "Ask the skipper." "Ask the captain what?" said the skipper sharply. "I have been thinking, Captain Chubb," panted Rodd.
Captain Chubb, the commander, proved to be a weak man for so responsible a position. He at first replied that though the sea were covered with French ships and the land with Indians he would not surrender unless compelled to do so, but the very next day ignominiously pulled down his flag.
"And what do you say, squire?" asked the skipper, speaking eagerly. "I say you'd better load the gun again, Captain Chubb," replied Rodd, speaking very hurriedly. "We might hit it if it came up, and then we could try and do what my uncle says." "Right," growled the skipper.
Carry the street- door key about with you! I've heard of such things with young good- for-nothing bachelors, with nobody to care what became of 'em; but for a married man to leave his wife and children in a house with a door upon the latch don't talk to me about Chubb, it's all the same- -a great deal you must care for us.
She looks too smart and clean, but it might mean that she's going to the West Coast, blackbirding." "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Rodd. "Why, that's what you thought about us, Captain Chubb." "So I did; so I did, my lad," said the skipper good-humouredly. "You see, I am like other men think I am very wise, but I do stupid things sometimes.
As matters turned out it was many, many months, owing to an accident to the schooner and the delays in re-fitting at Las Palmas, and long stays made in the Mediterranean the entrance to which could not be passed without a cruise within before the Maid of Salcombe approached the English coast, and, oddly enough, once more Captain Chubb was driven to take refuge for a few hours at Havre-de-Grace, where one of the first things to be noticed was the familiar brig.
He hesitated a moment or two, then quickly rescaling the wall, dropped into the lane outside, followed it to the gateway of the casa, and entered the patio as Dona Isabel decorously advanced from a darkened passage to the corridor. Although the hour of siesta had passed, her sister, Miss Chubb, the Alcalde, and Mrs. Brimmer were still lounging here on sofas and hammocks.
Word Of The Day