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Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886 [1859], Henry St. John, gentleman, of Flower of Hundreds, in the county of Prince George, Virginia: a tale of 1774-75. (Harper and Brothers, New York) [word count] [eaf510T]. To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.
On the next morning, after a sound night's rest on the Madam Henriette met them with a smile. “Where in the world are you going so early?” she said The captain saw that his wife was dying with curiosity, but “This is not court day, I believe, Mr. St. John?” “No, madam, I think not.” “Does any thing of interest take place in town this morning?” “I have not heard, madam.” “Then where in the world are you going, Captain Waters? “My dear Henriette—” “Well, sir?” “I think you said that breakfast was ready?” The lady pouted, and said that it was. “Then, with your leave, we will proceed to eat it. Ventre And the captain led the way into the breakfast room, and
Thereafter, his carriage was ordered at once, and he and “What in the world is that bundle they are putting in the “Are they putting a bundle in the carriage?” said the “Yes, you see they are!” “Well, so they are.” And the captain put on his gloves. “When will you be back?” asked the lady thus constantly “Do n't know,” said the captain. “Where can you be going?” “Did you say it was a fine morning, my dear St. John? “Captain Waters!” said the lady, with an imperious little “Did you speak, my dear?” said the soldier. “Yes, sir! I asked you to be so good as to tell me where “Why yes!” said the captain, “certainly, my dear.” “Yes, what, sir?” “The moon is, most probably, green cheese.” The captain uttered these words with a cheerful and “I think it 's very cruel in you!” she said, pouting. The captain twirled his moustache absently. “Won't you please tell me?” The captain smiled. “Won't you tell your Henriette, Ralph?” said the lady, The captain's lip curled with smiles. “You know it's so simple—just a word,” she said, coaxingly; The captain smiled again and ended by laughing. “I think I can!” he said, absently.
“Tell me, my dear! I thought you would!” “I'm sure I can!” continued the soldier, with his eyes “Certainly nothing is more proper, Ralph, to your own The captain woke, as it were, from his dream. “What is that, my love?” he said; “do you agree with “You were not listening to me then, sir!” said Mrs. Henriette, “No, my love.” “You did not hear me?” “Have you been speaking?” “You are a disgraceful husband, sir!” “Why?” asked the captain, cheerfully. “Because you will not tell me, or even listen. But you “Well, my love.” “You are outrageous!” “So I am, ma chére!” “Where are you going?” “To Jericho.” “Captain Waters!” “Madam!” “What are you going to do?” “Take the air!” The lady, flushed with vexation, and half-threatening, “You shall tell me?” she said, laughing. The captain recovered his hat, and bursting into responsive “Away, partlet! silence, hen! Go make the bibs and The captain then squeezed Mrs. Henriette's cheeks with
“That's a charming wife of mine, my dear boy,” he said, The captain then proceeded to enter at length upon his The soldier referred to his timepiece. “Just seven,” he said, “and here come Foy and Lindon.”
Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886 [1859], Henry St. John, gentleman, of Flower of Hundreds, in the county of Prince George, Virginia: a tale of 1774-75. (Harper and Brothers, New York) [word count] [eaf510T]. |