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“Mar,” he demanded hastily, “more marshed turnips, please.” Some of the voices were cracked and others badly out of tune. Moses Wopp’s voice, loudest of all, sounded like a foghorn and the windows fairly rattled in their frames. Nell motioned him to her desk. She thought by occupying his attention elsewhere the music lesson might proceed with more melody and less noise. Moses had developed his stentorian tones at home, by the lusty singing of Hallelujah hymns under the strict supervision of his mother. There was room on the slip of paper for only this last item, so numerous had been the demands, during this busy day, on Mr. Wopp’s memory..
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Conrad
“Said so, but they’re late. We’ve got an addition, the little earthquake girl.” This last was a sibilant aside. “By this time Joner was snorin’ in the bottom of the boat, an’ the man that was bossin’ the ship comes up to Joner an’ woke him an’ arsked him to pray.” He winced with pain, reeled, and would have fallen but for the other’s sustaining hand. Ricketty jig and away we go.”.
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