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Updated: June 10, 2025
Ned pointed at the same time towards me, and then indicated himself, requesting in this idiotic jargon to be informed of our fate. "Yellow hat's" reply was not of a reassuring character, although he uttered no word. What he did was, to draw the forefinger of his dirty hand across his throat in the most unpleasant manner.
I continued to pelt him; and he to dart his head at me, thrusting out his tongue and hissing fearfully, as much as to say, 'If I only could, wouldn't I, hat's all. I twice or thrice shook him in his position, but could not dislodge him; for he had got himself too firmly coiled round the bough: then I thought of our fellow's gun.
And one of her worst and most bitterly condemned offences was that she wore "a topish hat." This her husband vehemently denied; and long discussions and explanations followed on the hat's topishness, "Mr. For the benefit of unlearned modern children of the Puritans let me give the old Puritan's precise explanation and classification of topishness.
My duty makes me break the resolve: your hat is the worst enemy of your railroad." Vesta, however, was the Entailed Hat's greatest victim. It lay upon her spirits like a shroud.
He walked up and down in the store to see that the clerks waited properly on the customers, and he told strangers where to go. "Flossie wants a hat," went on Freddie. "The monkey ate the cherries off hers." "No; he didn't really eat them," Flossie explained, anxious to have everything just right. "He tried to chew 'em, but he didn't like 'em. Anyhow, my hat's gone!"
"And now, Bud Lee," cried Judith quickly, "I don't mind telling you, not seeing the end of the string we are playing, that you are a man to my liking!" "My hat's off," said Lee, with grave simplicity. "And in any old kind of a fight a man wouldn't want a better pardner than I can reach now, putting out my hand. He'd want just a thoroughbred! And now, little pardner, let's give them fits!"
"You'll die," he said, "with a hammer in your hand." "Then," said Mr. Tomkins, "I'll die as I've lived." "That's strange enough," said Mr. Jeminy, "when you come to think of it. For men are born into this world hungry and crying. But they die in silence and slip away without touching anything." Mr. Tomkins cleared his throat, and watched his fingers run around his hat's brim. He wanted to tell Mr.
"She is quite kind to me she tells me when she thinks my frock is hideous or my hat's impossible or she corrects my French accent. She is quite kind, but she would no more think of taking advice from me than from the sofa-cushion." Meynell shrugged his shoulders.
This terrific phenomenon was called the Devil's Punch Bowl. Not far from the brink of this awful abyss, and close behind the horseshoe range of rocks, stood a humble log-cabin, occupied by an old free negress, who picked up a scanty living by telling fortunes and showing the way to the Punch Bowl. Her cabin went by the name of the Witch's Hut, or Old Hat's Cabin.
He seemed to be relieved by the absence of the other plug hat that had been absorbing so much of the familiar, beloved and original plug hat's attention. Ivory looked up at Elkanah vindictively and then resumed his soliloquy. "No, sir, never! Half of circusing is a skin game all through and I've done my share of the skinning.
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