Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
“Moses, you git to the barn an’ hunt the aigs, an’ min’ you look in the haystack; that ole yaller hen has been wantin’ ter set in the nigh corner of it.” Al Newman took him by the arm, “We’ll have to leave for the show in eight minutes old boy, just a little funeral of your own now.” “If you wish to do so.”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
When Mr Lawrence had read this letter through, he was in the act of crushing it by one of those spasmodic motions of the hand which accompany a sudden violent gust of wrath, he met the eyes of the female in the bar fixed upon him; in her gloomy beer-flavoured recess, faintly luminous with hanging rows of highly-polished drinking pots, and a sideboard well within laden with metal vessels for drinking from and for holding drink, the landlady of "The Swan," for such was this decoration of the bar, had manifestly been studying his face whilst he read. She knew him very well, and she was also well acquainted with his habits. In a breath on meeting her eyes he changed his resolution, and folded up the letter into its original creases, giving her a smile which did not seem in the least[Pg 124] degree forced, and saying to her in his pleasantest manner, "Is the ordinary on?" and receiving her answer after she had darted a look at an invisible clock in her room, "In another three minutes, sir," he passed on and went upstairs.I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
"There's the old Canopus!" cried the Admiral. "Lord, what a shivering [Pg 398]recollection I have of her main topmast cross-trees!"
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Nell’s answer was somehow strangely muffled. Mrs. Bennett hugged her closer and patted her cheek softly, but let the passion of tears spend itself a little before trying the comfort of words. Then she questioned of the child’s parents, her past life, and the events just preceding the catastrophe in San Francisco, that she herself might better understand how to shield and make happy the little waif that a terrible, heaving earth had cast into her home, her arms. Once she had seen a moving picture show. It was a marvellous experience to her and had filled her dreams for many nights. She now decided to have a little moving picture show of her own. “Them’s thum,” was the sophisticated answer..
298 people found this
review helpful