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If this drive gets hung up, I'm going to murder every last one of you. Come on now, all together; if I could walk out on those logs I'd build a fire under you; but you've got me tied to the bank and you know it, you big fat loafers, you!" "Keep your hair on, bub; we'll make it, all right" "Well, we'd just better make it," warned Bob.
It was near milking-time, and with a vague uneasiness she hurried Bub home. She saw her father coming down from the cornfield.
Bub had been so often charged on this point, and impressed with the danger, that he did not forget it now; and, while he amused himself with dropping sticks into the water, and watching to see them carried along by the current, he called, "Mother, come, get Bub, if you don't want him drownded up."
Just ask for my boat at the club-house wharf." And then he went on. "That's all you get for your sympathy with oppressed people," said Rectus. "They call you bub." "Well, that old fellow isn't oppressed," I said; "and if any of his ancestors were, I don't suppose he cares about remembering it. We ought to hire his boat some time." That evening we took a walk along the sea-wall.
Bub went to sleep soon after that, nor did he wake till the gray of dawn. The engines were pulsing monotonously, and the water, splashing noisily, told him the decks were being washed down. One sweeping glance, and he saw that they were alone on the expanse of ocean. The Mary Thomas had escaped. As he lifted his head, a roar of laughter went up from the sailors.
'Well, we're all sick here, and I don't think I can horse thirty men; but we're bub bub bub blessed willing. Stop, does this impress you as a trap or a lie? He tossed a scrap of paper to Tallantire, on which was written painfully in crabbed Gurmukhi, 'We cannot hold young horses.
"To-morrow we are going to ride in Miss Lord's automobile," she remarked. Bub grunted. "She says she can easily run it up to our door. Do you believe that!" "Why not?" he inquired. "Don't Will Morrison have a car? It's over there in the shed now." "Could it be used?" quietly asked Mary Louise, who had now strolled up behind the bench unperceived.
And she did not even ask if I were well. Never even said, "Is Ivan Afanasiitch quite well?" She hasn't seen me for two whole days and not a sign.... She's even again, maybe, thought fit to meet that Bub Lucky fellow. Ouf, devil take it, what a fool I am! Pyetushkov got up, paced up and down the room in silence, stood still, knitted his brows slightly and scratched his neck.
Farther on little houses were being built of fresh boards, and farther on the water of the creek got blacker still. June suddenly clutched Bud's arms. Two demons had appeared on a pile of fresh dirt above them sooty, begrimed, with black faces and black hands, and in the cap of each was a smoking little lamp. "Huh," said Bub, "that ain't nothin'! Hello, Bill," he called bravely.
Bub pushed by her and threw open the shutters of a window to the low sunlight, and June stood with both hands to her head. It was a room for her with a dresser, a long mirror, a modern bed in one corner, a work-table with a student's lamp on it, a wash-stand and a chest of drawers and a piano!
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