United States or San Marino ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Thank yer Reverence; thank you, docthor." "On Friday, in Barny O'Darby's, alias Barny Butters. Are you there, Barny?" "All that's left of me is here, sir." "Well, Barny, how is the butter trade this season?" "It's a little on the rise, now, sir: in a, month or so I'm expecting it will be brisk enough. Boney, sir, is doing that much for us anyway."
"But they are having as hard a time of it as the escort of the wagons, for their horses mire above their knees," added Milton. "But they are getting ahead very slowly in spite of the soft soil." "But whar be them Cornfeds gwine?" asked Life, who seemed to be enamored of the name into which Butters had tortured the word. "They ain't gwine the shortest way to the wagon-train."
"Please, miss, do you think I might do something to stop the alarum clock of that Mr. Caw?" Mrs. Butters was not yet at all sure of Caw. "It's been ringin' for close on an hour, and I can't " The girl was up like a shot her face set, her hands clenched. What was she to do?
"And if you, sir, would be good enough to give your housekeeper some explanation that would satisfy her without giving away things " "That will be all right, Caw," Miss Handyside assured him. "When you get to know Mrs. Butters, you will realise that she is not as others are, being a woman absolutely without curiosity." "Thank you, miss." Caw smiled faintly and got up.
The sales to wholesale dealers are made by auction early in the day, and they average about a hundred thousand dollars. Then the retail traffic begins. The supplies, some of which come from great distances along the Mediterranean, include meat, fish, poultry, game, oysters, vegetables, fruit, flowers, butters, cream cheese, etc.
"Return to Lieutenant Butters; tell him I will be with him very soon, and ask him to send half his men, good strong fellows, to assist in getting the wagons out of the mire," replied Deck; and the rifleman left in obedience to the order. The men and the animals were all busy with their dinner, and the presence of the lieutenant was no longer necessary for a time.
"No; I reckon I'll take Lieutenant Ripley up to my house, for he's an old friend of mine," interposed Butters; "and he's the only man that can ever beat me shootin' with a rifle. I'm ready to jine for this campaign under him."
Butters ran to the left of his line, and marched his force, with the thirtieth man at his side, or next behind him, nearly to the point of the forest, where he stationed the one with the highest number, and then one in reverse order, about six feet apart, till the first number was stationed within a rod of the by-road.
"Yes," said Vesta; "I am staying there." "Be!" said Mr. Butters. "Wal, Doctor Strong boards there too, don't he?" "Yes; I don't think he is in now, though." "I know he ain't!" said Ithuriel Butters. Vesta looked with interest at the stalwart old figure, and strong keen face. Most of the wrinkles in the face had come from smiling, but it was grave enough now.
"It's no business of yours or mine what he's doing, Ithuriel Butters!" she said, with dignity. Then she began to tremble. "Seventy years ago," she said, "Ira Tree proposed to me in that very garden, under that very syringa-tree. I've been a widow fifty years, Ithuriel, and it seems like yesterday." And a dry sob clicked in her throat. "I've buried two good wives," said Mr.
Word Of The Day