Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Oswald takes the elevated train to Franklin Street, goes over to this building, and awaits opening of that afternoon's session. Looking about the court-room, he sees that same innocent-appearing old chap, still expostulating with his stern captor, who soothes him with the assurance: "Yez will warble a different chune at Sing Sing!"
Ye said somethin' about havin' Spanish bonds to the chune av thirty thousand pounds in yer pocket, or about ye somewhere, an' ye wanted some place to hide it, an' Rivers advised ye to have it stitched in yer clothes. Now, I scorrun avesdhroppin', so I does, but whin iufarrumation av that kind comes free to yer ears, ye're bound to I get the good av it.
The voice of Mary Ellen broke in on my reverie. She was teasing Angel to sing. "Aw give us a chune, Master Angel before th' missus gets back! There's a duck. I'll give ye a pocket full of raisins as sure's fate!" Angel, full of music as a bird, could strum some sort of accompaniment to any song on the piano.
Presently the pipe was in his hands again; he fitted, unfitted, refitted, and played upon it in dumb show for some time. "I play it myself a little," says he. "Do you?" said I, and yawned. And then he broke down. "Mr. Ramornie, if you please, would it disturb you, sir, if I was to play a chune?" he pleaded. And from that hour, the tootling of the flageolet cheered our way.
"I ain't 'feared o' no wolf," he said; "I'll play 'em a chune." He went on in the vanguard, his tousled yellow hair idealized with many a shimmer in the moonlight as it hung curling down on his blue jeans coat, his cheek laid softly on the violin, the bow glancing back and forth as if strung with moonbeams as he played.
"Little they cared. The carpse was wid them, an' they'd ha' taken ut so through a Coronation. Our ordhers was to go into Peshawur, an' we wint hot-fut past the Fly-by-Nights, not singin', to lave that chune behind us. That was how we tuk the road of the other corps.
The inspiration returned no more, and Laurelia experienced a sense of loss. "Some time, Lee-yander, ef ye war ter kem acrost that chune agin, try ter set it in yer remembrance, an' play it whenst ye kem home," she said, wistfully, at last, as if this errant melody were afloat somewhere in the vague realms of sound, where one native to those haunts might hope to encounter it anew.
Who cooks fur you-oo-a? Ef you'll cook for my folks, Den I'll cook fur y' all-l-lll? "Well, hit wuz 'long er dat very chune wat he los' his eyes, an' can't see no mo' in de daytime; an' ev'n I wuz him, I'd let folks' cookin' erlone." "Can't you tell us about it, Daddy?" asked Dumps.
'It goes like this, says Slavin. 'A-ah, din yadden, yooden a-yadden, arrah yadden ay-a. 'I dinnaw it, says th' girl. ''Tis a low chune, annyhow, says Mrs. Donahue. 'Misther Slavin ividintly thinks he's at a polis picnic, she says. 'I'll have no come-all-ye's in this house, she says. 'Molly, give us a few ba-ars fr'm Wagner. 'What Wagner's that? says Flannagan.
What was that you was a-hummin' in your cabin? Nice chune. I've a musical ear meself." Someone sang a verse in a subdued baritone, tremulous with sentiment. The melody was haunting, the words almost pathetic under the conditions of life on board the disheveled Unser Fritz. They told of Vienna, the city beloved of its sons. Es gibt nur eine Kaiser Stadt, Es gibt nur eine Wien.
Word Of The Day