If anybody had whispered any such similar good news in his ear on any one of the weary nights he had lain awake waiting for the dawn, or at any time of the day when he sat his horse, his rifle across the pommel, it would have made another man of him.
If his uncle was awake! He was not only awake, but he was very much alive.
"I've got a great piece of news for you, Uncle George!" Harry shouted in a rollicking tone, his joy increasing as he noted his uncle's renewed strength.
"So have I got a great piece of news for you!" was shouted back.

"Come in, you young rascal, and shut that door behind you.

She isn't going to marry Willits.

Thrown him over--don't want him--don't love him--can't love him--never did love him! She's just told me so.

Whoop--hurrah! I Dance, you dog, before I throw this chair at you!!" There are some moments in a man's life when all language fails;--pantomime moments, when one stares and tries to speak and stares again.