'It's a stew of tripe,' said the landlord smacking his lips, 'and cow-heel,' smacking them again, 'and bacon,' smacking them once more, 'and steak,' smacking them for the fourth time, 'and peas, cauliflowers, new potatoes, and sparrow-grass, all working up together in one delicious
gravy.' Having come to the climax, he smacked his lips a great many times, and taking a long hearty sniff of the fragrance that was hovering about, put on the cover again with the air of one whose toils on earth were over.
"You will have your row in the boat just the same, you know," she said to Maggie when they went out of the breakfast-room and upstairs together; "Philip will be here it half-past ten, and it is a delicious morning.
The breath of the young, unwearied day, the delicious rhythmic dip of the oars, the fragmentary song of a passing bird heard now and then, as if it were only the overflowing of brimful gladness, the sweet solitude of a twofold consciousness that was mingled into one by that grave, untiring gaze which need not be averted,--what else could there be in their minds for the first hour?
"The dama-fruit is the most delicious
thing that grows, and when it makes us invisible the bears cannot find us to eat us up.
For five cents I could buy five "cannon-balls"--big lumps of the most delicious
So much for the first course; several other dishes followed it, some of which were positively delicious
. We concluded our banquet by tossing off the contents of two more young cocoanuts, after which we regaled ourselves with the soothing fumes of tobacco, inhaled from a quaintly carved pipe which passed round the circle.
It was so delicious that instead of flying straight to his old home he skimmed away over St.
How nice that would be to him, but oh, how exquisitely delicious it would be to her.
During the next few minutes the rumor that Amy March had got twenty- four delicious
limes (she ate one on the way) and was going to treat circulated through her `set', and the attentions of her friends became quite overwhelming.
It was the cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious
sense of repose and peace in the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods.
Dorothy went to get him, and saw such delicious
fruit hanging from the branches that she gathered some of it, finding it just what she wanted to help out her breakfast.
it is to turn over and go to sleep again: "just for five minutes." Is there any human being, I wonder, besides the hero of a Sunday-school "tale for boys," who ever gets up willingly?