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"I have heard Mr Lawrence highly spoken of. When I was last in London I met Pettigrew of the Circe, and he was telling me of a cutting-out affair in which your son was engaged in the West Indies—Antigua, I think. Nothing could have been more gallant than his conduct." Nature had crooked a wooded arm about Rond Eau Bay so that her tranquillity seldom was disturbed by the fall gales which piled the waters of Lake Erie high and made her a veritable death-trap for late-sailing ships. To the thunder of heavy waves upon the pine-clad beach the little bay slept sweetly, while half a league beyond the bar a tempest-torn, dismasted schooner might be battered to pieces, or a heavy freighter, her back broken by the twisting seas, might sink to final rest. But there were times when Rond Eau awoke from her dreaming to gnash her white teeth and throw her hissing challenge to man to dare ride her banked-up seas in open boat. At such times only the foolish or venturesome listened. When the gale swept in from the East it transformed the upper waters into a seething cauldron, while, plunging in the nine-mile sweep from the West, it swept water at the foot, frothing and turbulent, across the rushlands. "Lucy, my dear," exclaimed Miss Acton, "play 'Now, Goody, Please to Moderate,' or 'My Lodging is on the Cold Ground,' or 'Sally in our Alley.' I do not care which. They are all very beautiful, and I know no song, brother, that carries me back like 'Sally in our Alley.' Do you remember how finely our father used to sing it? He was at Dr Burney's one night, sir," said she, talking to Mr Lawrence, "when a famous Italian singer of that day—who was it now?—she was as yellow as a guinea, and her hoops were so large there were many doors she could not pass through—who was it now? But no matter; after my father had sung she stepped over to him, and curtsying as though she would sit before him, she said: 'I have often heard this song sung and thought nothing of it. But now, sir, I shall ever regard it as the loveliest composition in English music.'".
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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It was Saturday afternoon on a busy street in the city. Moses Wopp and Clarence Crump, at whose home the former was spending the week end, were on their way to the skating-rink. If they had wanted to skate there, the streets would have accommodated them with a sufficiently smooth surface, as an early frost had rimed the pavement.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
“Who wants to drive my trained bear an’ monkey? Only a dime stranger, only a dime!”
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Conrad
"They did?" Mrs. Keeler turned towards Billy and Maurice, her face aglow. "An' was that what they was adoin'? Now I'm right sorry I spoke harsh. I am so. Ain't you, Mrs. Wilson?" "Well sir, I nigh died when I seen him settin' on our winder-sill," laughed Maurice. "We was havin' mornin' prayer; the new teacher was at our place an' he was prayin'. Croaker strutted up an' down the sill, peerin' in an' openin' an' shuttin' his mouth like he was callin' that old hawk-faced teacher every name he could think of. I saw he had a paper tied 'round his neck so I crawled on my hands an' knees past Ma, an' slipped out. If Ma hadn't been so deef, she'd have heard me an' nabbed me sure." "He could have done well," sighed the old Admiral. "A few evenings ago I was waited upon by Mr Greyquill, a sleek and dingy little man whom I do not love the sight of. Such a visit must be an intrusion. I was sitting in the open window smoking my pipe, when he pushed the gate and sneaked up the path in his land-stealing way, but before he could fetch the door I hailed him: 'Hallo, Mr Greyquill,' says I, 'pray, what business[Pg 14] brings you on this visit?' But in my heart I knew devilish well what he called about. He steps on to the grass over against my window, and with a low congee says, 'I am sorry, Sir William, to intrude upon you, sir, but I can obtain no satisfaction from your son, and at the same time I have no desire to go to extremities.' 'You'll not help your case by threatening me, Mr Greyquill,' said I. 'But look how the case stands, sir,' he cries, 'your son has had three hundred pounds from me.' 'No, sir,' I said. 'Well, sir, he owes me three hundred pounds.' 'For how much advanced?' said I. 'For two hundred in good cash,' he answered. I looked the old rogue full in the eye, and said, 'You should be a rich man, sir.' 'I want my money, Sir William,' says he. 'I trusted your son as an officer and a gentleman, and as the son of an officer and a gentleman——' 'Hold, sir,' I shouted, losing my temper. 'What right had you to trust me as an officer and a gentleman when you never gave me your confidence? Did you drop a hint to me that you were advancing money to my son? Do you suppose if I had known the truth, that I would have suffered you to accept my credit as a stake in these ignoble transactions?' 'Well, Sir William, I want my money,' said the old rascal, 'and must get it, though I[Pg 15] hope not to be driven into extremities. Is Mr Lawrence in?' 'No, sir,' says I. 'Good afternoon!' and I got up and left the window." Billy puckered up his lips, but his effort was a failure. "You try, Maurice," he said, "I can't jest keep the hole in my mouth steady long enough t' whistle.".
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