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“Stop and chin with me just a little, won’t you, marmsey?”,“No, no!” said Mother, with hands on both ears.,“He was a real little cat Moses, wasn’t he? And you—you must be Pharaoh’s son instead of daughter.” The child laughed and clapped her hands.,As Bob tried to go to sleep his amazement that Jerry could be so two-faced, grew more and more pronounced. Jerry did not exhibit any of the symptoms of a person who was engaged in a treacherous plot, rather he seemed happy and buoyant over the accomplishment of something well worth while. Could he have been mistaken?,"Perhaps it will all come right at last. Oh! if some kind good fairy would but come to our aid and help us to confound our enemies!",“This is a xylophone, take this little wooden hammer and play a few notes.” Moses took the hammer held out to him and striking a wooden bar brought out a weird but sweet sound. He struck several bars in succession and was enraptured to find that they produced a sort of veiled silvery music. “Sounds like the moon looks when you carnt see it fer clouds,” he mused, “Mar thinks I’d make a moosican, mebbe she’s right.”,"It is not only drink," said Miss Acton. "They tell me he is accustomed to bet very heavily.","Well, on the principle that fine feathers make fine birds, I suppose they do," acknowledges Geoffrey, reluctantly.,"Life in death!" he said calmly. "Read that riddle, Mr. Alymer. Life in death.","Well, Violet was crying (not loudly, you know, but quite comfortably): so then I thought I had been mistaken, and that probably she had a toothache, or a headache, or something, and that the foregoing speech was mere spooning; and I rather lost faith in the situation, when suddenly he said, 'Why do you cry?' And what do you think was her answer? 'Because I am so happy.' Now, fancy any one crying because she was happy!" says Mr. Darling, with fine disgust. "I always laugh when I'm happy. And I think it rather a poor thing to dissolve into tears because a man asks you to marry him: don't you, Mrs. Geoffrey?",Two mornings following the day on which Mr Short had proposed Mr Lawrence's health, old Mr Greyquill rose from his chair at his office table, and said to his clerk in the brown wig, who sat within eyeshot at another table in the adjacent room, that he was going to collect his rents at Greyquill's Buildings, and that he would not be back before half-past[Pg 132] twelve. He never looked so white as he did this morning. His white hair seemed to rest like a cloud upon his head and shoulders. His eyebrows bore so strong a resemblance to white mice that no one could have overlooked the similitude, particularly as each eyebrow flourished over the bridge of the nose a few little dark hairs which resembled tails. His waistcoat was white, not having come from the wash above three days, and his stockings were white.,“O Billy,” his mother laughed, “you need not decide to-night. Besides, it was all Bess’s nonsense. I can’t quite imagine my heedless boy in a pulpit.”.