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"Ranny," she said, suddenly; "if I were you I wouldn't bring strangers in for a bit while your father's sufferin' as he is." "Oh, I say, Mother " Ranny was disconcerted, for he had been going to ask her if he might bring Winny Dymond in some day. "Well," she said, "it isn't as if He was one that could get away by Himself, like. He's always in and out." "Yes.
I thought so, over and over again, when he believed I was fast asleep, but I knew that it was of no use asking him to let me ride for a bit. "You don't mind my sitting here for a little, do you? I am going away again, presently. I only came back, so soon, because I thought he might wonder what had become of me, if I did not. I could have gone on walking for a long time.
It was not long before the increasing heel of the craft, and rustle of water along her side, told that she was travelling faster. "The wind is freeing her a bit, sir. It has shifted a good half point in the last ten minutes." "That is a comfort," Frank said. "You may as well heave the log. I should like to know how she is going before I turn in." "Seven knots, sir," the mate reported.
"If only I could put out a bit of supper for him somewhere where he would get it! And his money, too? I hate to feel it's in there." "Don't you make any mistake he'll come back for that," said Bunting, with decision. But Mrs. Bunting shook her head. She knew better. "Now," she said, "you go off up to bed. It's no use us sitting up any longer." And Bunting acquiesced.
Ah! how the blood came rushing through the veins that crossed over and through his heart, when life and liberty came to him in this bit of rusty steel!
Joe looked quickly up into his companion's face, and his body somewhat relaxed. "But did he ever suffer like this?" he questioned. "Surely you know what he endured." "Ay, ay, I have read it all. But look, I could bear all that easier than this. I could stand to have my body torn to pieces bit by bit rather than see my darling child, my baby, injured. Was His suffering anything like mine?"
Taken to task by a friendly critic for his odd omission, he deigned to reply: "Well, I feel about it a good deal like that big, burly, good-natured canal laborer who had a little waspy bit of a wife, in the habit of beating him. One day she put him out of the house and switched him up and down the street.
But the horse, fighting the bit, seemed to have a clear idea of going somewhere and in the general direction of Showdown. "You ought to know the trail to Showdown," said Pete. "And you ain't tryin' to git back home, so go to it! I'll be right with you." The heavy, hot wind seethed round him and he bent his head, tying his bandanna across his nose and mouth.
Moreover, as we shall see a bit later on, there is a certain specious appearance of soundness in their position; they have forced upon women an artificial character which well conceals their real character, and women have found it profitable to encourage the deception.
It was a maiden lady, who, I am sure, was no more to blame for her singleness than for her age; and she looked to these honest sketches of experience for that aid which the professional agricultural papers could not give in the management of the little bit of garden which she called her own.
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