Bide a wee till the river's clear, say I." "It's no go, Tommy," Jacob Welse admonished.

"You can't cash excuses here." "But, mon! It doesna need discreemeenation--" "That'll do!" from Corliss.

"You're coming." "I'll naething o' the sort.

I'll--" "Shut up!" Del had come into the world with lungs of leather and larynx of brass, and when he thus jerked out the stops the Scotsman quailed and shrank down.
"Oyez! Oyez!" In contrast to Del's siren tones, Frona's were purest silver as they rippled down-island through the trees.

"Oyez! Oyez! Open water! Open water! And wait a minute.