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Beaseley was rather an unobservant person, for Janice's eyes were tear-filled when she looked into the cottage kitchen. Nelson, however, was not at home. He had gone for a long tramp through the fields and had not yet returned. So, leaving word for him to come over to the Day house that evening, Janice went slowly back to her car. Before she could start it 'Rill came outside.
He and the other committeemen are doing every underhanded thing possible to injure me. Cross Moore even tried to get into my rooms to search my trunk but Mrs. Beaseley threatened him with a broom. "It doesn't surprise me that Mr.
I've seen 'em before, and handled 'em, too, for that matter." "I shan't set foot in that stage till all my things is in, and packed to suit me," declared Mrs. Beaseley, positively. "You gimme the bird;" with that she seized the bird-cage, and holding it well before her, she stepped up the first step. The next minute she was precipitated on the floor of the stage, with the birdcage under her.
You must not take it so to heart. You will not bear it all alone, Nelson. Every friend you have in Polktown will help you." She had come close to him, her hands fluttering upon his breast and her eyes, sparkling with teardrops, raised to his face. "Oh, Janice!" he groaned, and swept her into his arms. That was a very serious Saturday night at the old Day house, as well as at the Beaseley cottage.
Now he stared at it until it disappeared again in Mr. Tisbett's waistcoat pocket. "Well, you needn't waste the time now," said Mrs. Beaseley, in asperity. "I'm sure there's little enough left. Put that carpet bag in careful, Mr. Tisbett; it's got some cups and sassers in I'm a-takin' to my daughter in Strawberry Hill." "All right, Marm," said Mr.
The Drugg domicile was almost across the street from the Beaseley cottage and the girl did not know but that 'Rill had been delegated to tell her something of moment about the young schoolmaster. Marty, too, was eagerly curious. "Hey, Janice! what's the matter?" he whispered, at her shoulder. "Mr. Drugg has to be away this evening and she is afraid to stay in the house and store alone.
We must stop for Mr. Filbert." The next passenger was a thin, wiry little man, who seemed to beg pardon constantly for being in somebody's way. And after Mr. Tisbett had slung his hair trunk on the rack, Mr. Filbert stepped gently into the stage-coach. "Excuse me, Marm," he said to the woman. "Did I step on your toes?" "You hain't hurt me none," said Mrs. Beaseley, "and you hain't teched my toes.
Beaseley reports that the trumpet has done good work at various British stations, making itself heard from five to ten miles. The frequent stoppages during foggy weather made them sources of danger instead of aids to navigation. The sound of these trumpets has deteriorated during the last year or so." Gen.
Mrs. Beaseley lived almost across the street from Hopewell Drugg's store, and Nelson Haley, the principal of Polktown's graded school, boarded with the widow. Janice ran in to see her "just for a moment." Therefore, it could scarcely be counted strange that the young school principal should have caught the girl in Mrs.
"An' you tell him I've got his dinner down on the stove-hearth, 'twixt plates, a-keepin' it hot for him." Janice did as she was bidden as far as knocking at the door of the front room was concerned. There was no answer at first not a sound from within. She rapped a second time. "I am sorry, Mrs. Beaseley; I could not possibly eat any dinner to-day," Nelson's voice finally replied.
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