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"You! At your time of life, brother, going a voyage to the West Indies with every probability of the French making a prisoner of you and Lucy!" cried Miss Acton in the[Pg 108] high key in which she saluted the ear when she was alarmed. "Because He didn't have no boat!" "Are we now?" Landon rubbed his hands and smacked his lips in anticipation. "You're goin' to stay and help clean up on 'em, Billy?".
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Conrad
"Well, what is it, then? Who sent you? Come now, out with it quick, or I'll take a tarred rope-end to you." "I will not declare what the butcher charges!" cried Mr Greyquill, a little warmly for so sleek a man. "But take my word, the British tradesman, whether tinker, tailor,[Pg 136] butcher, baker, and we'll throw in grocer as we do not value rhymes, charges at rates which if reduced from profit to interest and called by that aggressive term discount, would represent every shopkeeper in the nation as big a scoundrel as the most voracious of your money-lenders, sir." "Fer land sakes! you don't say so, Maurice. Is she very bad?" The tones were sympathetic now. Maurice nodded, and glanced longingly at the fresh batch of brown cookies. "There they be now," she said grimly. "The two worst boys in Scotia, Mrs. Wilson.".
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