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An Indian has no more right to kill wild game, or to subsist upon it all the year round, than any white man in the same locality. The Indian has no inherent or God-given ownership of the game of North America, anymore than of its mineral resources; and he should be governed by the same game laws as white men.
Let me wipe your tears, and then you will come with me to my quarters, and I will give you something very, very good to eat. But by all means don't cry anymore." The children snuggled up to her and she took them by their hands, away from the crowd which had frightened them by their curious stares.
The interruption came just as I was ripe to discharge my thoughts upon him. "Parload," said I, "very likely I shall have to leave all this. Old Rawdon won't give me a rise in my wages, and after having asked I don't think I can stand going on upon the old terms anymore. See? So I may have to clear out of Clayton for good and all." Section 3
It ain't no slouch of a journal." But it shortly became a most lamentable "slouch of a journal." One night in Paris, after a hard day's toil in sightseeing, I said: "Now I'll go and stroll around the cafes awhile, Jack, and give you a chance to write up your journal, old fellow." His countenance lost its fire. He said: "Well, no, you needn't mind. I think I won't run that journal anymore.
Too much that was unbelievable by old standards had happened around him. This was delayed reaction to space. He had heard of such a thing. But he had hardly thought that it could apply to him, anymore...! Well, he knew what to do... Tranquilizer tablets were practically forgotten things to him. But he gulped one now. In a few minutes, he seemed okay, again...
After that I saw Chloe's troubled black face written on my vision, and felt dripping drops about my head. "'There, Miss Lettie, it's all over, now. I's so glad you're come to! I won't bother you with reading anymore letters. It would have to be much good in it that 'ud pay me for seeing you so. "I was sitting in the arbor a little later, alone, reading the letter.
"For a gent like Bill Gregg, that's simple and straight from the shoulder, they ain't nothing too good to be done for him. What I'd do for him he'd do mighty pronto for me, and what he'd do for me well, don't you figure that he'd do ten times as much for the girl he loves? Be honest with me," said Ronicky Doone. "Tell me if Bill means anymore to you than any stranger?" "No yes."
Is this God's reward for all my trouble to please him? Then how vain all our old prayers seem; how empty and dry all ordinances. We cry, I have cleansed my hands in vain, and in vain washed my heart in innocency. We have no heart to pray to God. If he has not heard our past prayers, why should we pray anymore?
"Men can't control the thoughts that flit across their minds," he muttered, as he went along, "anymore than they can direct the shadows of the clouds that sail above them. They come and pass, and leave no stain behind. What, then, of omens, and that wretched effigy of death? Stuff pshaw! Murder, indeed! I'm incapable of murder. I have drawn my sword upon a man in fair duel; but murder!
The mules went to sleep while the boys were unloading them. Ned confessed that he was nearly fagged. Tad, on the other hand, declared that he had never felt better in his life. "Hope they won't steal anymore live stock," said Ned. "If they do we'll have to pack the outfit on our own backs, which, after all, probably wouldn't be any harder than trying to lead a stubborn mule.
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