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best bookies to bet with BUTTER SAUCE. No. 1. Sleep is one of the most delightful and undervalued amusements known to the human race. I have never had enough yet, and every second of time that I'm not busy with something interesting, I curl up on the bed and go dream-hunting—only I sleep too hard to do much catching. But this torture book found that out about me, and stopped it the very first thing on page three. The command is to sleep as little as possible to keep the nerves in a good condition—"eight hours at the most, and seven would be better." What earthly good would a seven-hour nap do me? I want ten hours to sleep and twelve if I get a good tired start. To see me stagger out of my perfectly nice bed at six o'clock every morning now would wring the sternest heart with compassion and admiration at my faithfulness—to whom?,At this Sir Nicholas gives way and laughs out loud, whereon Mona laughs too, though she reddens slightly, and says, "Well, of course the piano will do, though the fiddle is best of all.",A long time ago there was a man who had two wives. They were not good women; they did not look after their home nor try to keep things comfortable there. If the man brought in plenty of buffalo cow skins they did not tan them well, and often when he came home at night, hungry and tired after his hunting, he had no food, for these women would be away from the lodge, visiting their relations and having a good time.,"That reminds me," broke out Griffin. "There's a prize for the mud larks, too. I've forgotten what it is, but it'll be posted in the morning. There's your chance, young 'un. You're eligible for it.","Yes, sir, she do. Arsked me 'bout it, but I knowed nuffin, I didn't."，"It looks like the production of a lunatic,—a very dangerous lunatic,—an habitue of Colney Hatch," muses Geoffrey, who is growing more and more puzzled with the paper's contents the oftener he reads it.，“Pull in to shore, Bob,” he said quickly. “We’d better take a look at what’s coming before we tackle it.”，Mona takes no notice of his words, but still stands by the table, with her hands folded, her long white robes clinging to her, her eyes lowered, her whole demeanor like that of some mediæval saint. So thinks Rodney, who is gazing at her as though he would forever imprint upon his brain the remembrance of a vision as pure as it is perfect."And, if so, what are you doing here?" says Mona, reprovingly.

"Well, go on. What's all this got to do with whisky?",Thus adjured, Howard began, while Mrs. Wopp leaned back in her chair rocking vigorously.,Here of course everybody says the most charming thing he or she can think of at a moment's notice; and then they all kiss Violet, and Nolly, coming back at this auspicious instant with the fan and recovered temper, joins in the general congratulations, and actually kisses her too, though Geoffrey whispers "traitor" to him in an awful tone, as he goes forward to do it.,Patricia was tremendously interested and it was with the greatest regret that she heard the whistle of the up-train, while the tangle of the sycamore was still undisturbed in the roadway.,"I can't undertake to answer all that at once, Miss Pat," he said. "Let's go find what Elinor thinks about it.",“Don’t worry,” returned Bob. “I ought to have been able to hold him. I’m only worried about what he might do now. I’m going to wake Mr. Taylor.”,Then he laid aside his book to think, and through the smoke curling from his pipe he stared idly at the opposite wall. It chanced to be that upon which the barbaric weapons before alluded to were arranged, and conspicuous among them glittered the golden handle of the devil-stick. Recalling the mention of Voodoo, and Etwald's reference to African witchcraft, Maurice connected in his own mind the devil-stick with those barbarisms, and on the impulse of the moment he rose to examine the magic wand. Handling it carefully--for he dreaded the poison, although it was said to be dried up--he wondered if Dido could make use of it were it in her possession.,"Well, well, dearie, I don't know about that," said Aunt Bettie as she fanned and rocked her great, big, darling, fat self in the strong rocking-chair I always kept for her. "Alfred is not old enough to have proved himself entirely, and from what I hear——" she paused with the big hearty smile that she always wears when she begins to tease or match-make, and she does them both most of her time.,The broad shaft of sunlight that flooded the dining-room where Nell Gordon sat was suddenly darkened. Looking up she saw the tall straight figure of Howard Eliot at the doorway.,Judith finished dabbling her fingers in the finger-bowl, and wiped them daintily. Then she raised her clear eyes to the expectant company.,“Won’t you sing something else, Mrs. Wopp.” Nell was growing uncomfortable under Betty’s reference to the unburnished state of her cloud.,"No use tryin' to wake Maurice," she said as she turned to go. "As well try to wake the dead. Remember, you boys get up when I call you.".