Genre Humor. Page - 19

mour.] -- If it is, when we're wedded in a shortwhile you'll have no call to complain, for I've little will to be walking offto wakes or weddings in the darkness of the night.PEGEEN -- [with rather scornful good humour.] -- You're making mighty certain,Shaneen, that I'll wed you now. SHAWN. Aren't we after making a good bargain, the way we're only waitingthese days on Father Reilly's dispensation from the bishops, or the Court ofRome. PEGEEN -- [looking at him teasingly, washing up at dresser.]

ometimes byanother, according to occasion and circumstance. He was constructingwhat seemed to be some kind of a frail mechanical toy; and was apparentlyvery much interested in his work. He was a white-headed man, now, butotherwise he was as young, alert, buoyant, visionary and enterprising asever. His loving old wife sat near by, contentedly knitting andthinking, with a cat asleep in her lap. The room was large, light, andhad a comfortable look, in fact a home-like look, though the furniturewas

in the morning we go to the pump-room (though neither my master nor I drink the waters); after breakfast we saunter on the parades, or play a game at billiards; at night we dance; but damn the place, I'm tired of it: their regular hours stupify me--not a fiddle nor a card after eleven!--However, Mr. Faulkland's gentleman and I keep it up a little in private parties;--I'll introduce you there, Thomas--you'll like him much.THOMAS Sure I know Mr. Du-Peigne--you know his master is to marry Madam

said--" only every winter it was a different "he."In my wash-stand drawer I'd kept all the clippings about her coming out and the winter she spent in Washington and was supposed to be engaged to the president's son, and the magazine article that told how Mr. Jennings had got his money by robbing widows and orphans, and showed the little frame house where Miss Patty was born--as if she's had anything to do with it. And so now I was cutting out the picture of her and the prince and

inute. I'm just catching up with you. You have the barefaced insolence to warn me. I think I'll slap your face.""Don't," Doan warned. "Carstairs will bite you if you do. Not that he cares anything about me, but he would feel it was a reflection on him." Melissa looked at Carstairs. He was lying down on the floor with his eyes shut. "Don't let him fool you," said Doan. "He's ready to go into instant action. He's just pretending he's not interested."

wing-room window, suddenly saw the heavy sash give way and fall on the child's fingers. The lady fainted, I think, but at any rate the doctor was summoned, and when he had dressed the child's wounded and maimed fingers he was summoned to the mother. She was groaning with pain, and it was found that three fingers of her hand, corresponding with those that had been injured on the child's hand, were swollen and inflamed, and later, in the doctor's language, purulent sloughing set in."Ambrose

And that was a tame one he had of his own,Whose death would be deeply deplored. The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark, Protested, with tears in its eyes, That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark Could atone for that dismal surprise! It strongly advised that the Butcher should be Conveyed in a separate ship: But the Bellman declared that would never agree With the plans he had made for the trip: Navigation was always a difficult art, Though with only one ship and one bell: And he

his trip just a rumor?""Here he comes," said Janet. Bartolome trotted down the terrace steps and leaned in the door. "Starting instantly in a few moments. Have the kindness of patience in waiting for the more important passengers." "Who are they?" Henshaw demanded, interested. "The lady of incredible richness with the name of Patricia Van Osdel and her parasites." "No fooling!" Henshaw exclaimed. "You hear that, Doan? Patricia Van

ladys Maud cried, because she had taken a sudden dislike to the village idiot; and Mike settled himself in the corner and opened a magazine.He was alone in the carriage. Bob, who had been spending the last week of the holidays with an aunt further down the line, was to board the train at East Wobsley, and the brothers were to make a state entry into Wrykyn together. Meanwhile, Mike was left to his milk chocolate, his magazines, and his reflections. The latter were not numerous, nor profound. He

d has been living there these fourteen years past.''A Polish nobleman?' I asked. 'Nay, we breed no such men in Poland,' he answered. 'A Frenchman, then?' cried Duroc. 'They say that he came from France.' 'And with red hair?' 'As red as a fox.' 'Yes, yes, it is my man,' cried my companion, quivering all over in his excitement. 'It is the hand of Providence which has led me here. Who can say that there is not justice in this world? Come, Monsieur Gerard, for I must see the men safely quartered