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Hearing from Weyburn that the chariot was bound to go through Winchester, she spoke of a brother, a baker there, the last surviving member of her family and, after some talk, Weyburn offered to deliver a message of health and greeting at the baker's shop. There was a waving of hands, much nodding and curtseying, as the postillion resumed his demi-volts all to the stupefaction of Mrs.
Then he turned round a side street and disappeared. And what did Stephen do? He walked on till he came to a baker's shop, where he bought some bread; then to a grocer's, where he got sugar, tea, and a candle; and so on, till his arms and pockets were full of parcels. But the odd thing was that he bought so much. That was what struck a man one of the mill-hands who was in the shop.
Despite its prettiness, her face was dulness incarnate. "Anyhow, remember to take in the piano if I'm out," he said tartly. "I suppose you've seen a piano you'll know it from a kangaroo?" "Yessir," breathed Mary Ann. "Oh, come, that's something. There is some civilisation in Baker's Terrace after all. But are you quite sure?" he went on, the teasing instinct getting the better of him.
March from the Imbozhwa country. Slaves escape. Burial of Syde bin Habib's brother. Singular custom. An elephant killed. Native game-laws. Rumour of Baker's Expedition. Christmas dinners. 11th October, 1868. From Kizinga north the country is all covered with forest, and thrown up into ridges of hardened sandstone, capped occasionally with fine-grained clay schist.
The plain backs of the homes along Whittier Street, irregular in profile as the margins of a free verse poem, offered Roger an agreeable human panorama. Thin strands of smoke were rising from chimneys; a belated baker's wagon was joggling down the alley; in bedroom bay-windows sheets and pillows were already set to sun and air.
Even the auctioneer went at last, and as he closed the door with a bang, the reverberation that went through the suite gave evidence of its emptiness. "Come," said Trina to the dentist, "let's go down and look take a last look." They went out of Miss Baker's room and descended to the floor below. On the stairs, however, they were met by Old Grannis. In his hands he carried a little package.
He did not say it was composed of fried pork and potatoes and baker's bread, without tea, coffee, or milk. The girl seemed delighted to think he was hungry. "You wait a minute," she commanded, and her smiling face disappeared from the top of the fence. Brad went to work to keep from catching cold, wondering what she was going to do.
The population of Fitchburg had not remained stationary during the war, but had increased from 650 to about 1,000. At its close there was the nucleus of a village scattered along the road near the river, now Main Street. One might see Cowdin's tavern, Kimball's saw and grist mill, Fox's store, a baker's shop, and half a dozen houses between the American house and the upper Common.
So the collector goes on, till he perhaps collects some five thousand volumes or so of select works. If he is miscellaneous in his taste, he may get on pretty comfortably to ten or fifteen thousand, and then his troubles will arise. He has easily got Baker's and Froissart's and Monstrelet's Chronicles, because there are modern reprints of them in the market.
We were laughed at by our landlord when we mentioned our want of this convenience. "Why!" cried he, "there is a baker's shop not five minutes walk from the house." "Never mind," said I, "how near the baker's shop may be; we mean to have all our bread made at home. It will be, we are sure, better to do so, both on the score of health and economy."
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