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Price has been chopping wood, pausing occasionally to stare off through the purple haze at the south shoulder of Coniston Mountain. "How be you, Jethro?" says Mr. Price, nasally. "D-Democrats are talkin' some of namin' you Moderator next meetin'," says the man in the coonskin cap. "Want to know!" ejaculates Mr. Price, dropping the axe and straightening up in amazement. For Mr.
When she entered, clad in her wedding gown, coonskin coat and beaver cap, he again began to doubt his senses and stood in wonder, looking at her. "Aren't you glad to see me, Dic?" she asked, laughing. Still he did not respond, and she continued, "I have ridden all night to bring you a Christmas gift."
They alighted at an old red railroad station, were seized upon by a hackman in a coonskin coat, and thrust into a carriage that threatened to fall to pieces on the frozen macadam road.
I told 'em livin' in Kaintuck was kinder rough." "Mercy!" said Polly Ann, "ter think that they was use' ter silver spoons, and linen, and niggers ter wait on 'em. Tom, ye must shoot a turkey, and I'll do my best to give 'em a good supper." Tom rose obediently, and seized his coonskin hat. She stopped him with a word. "Tom." "Ay?" "Mayhap mayhap Davy would know 'em.
When it came to an election of legislators, many of the people "didn't go that fur" either. There was a preponderance of jean suits like Lincoln's in the Assembly, and there were coonskin caps and buckskin trousers. Nevertheless, more than one member showed a studied garb and a courtly manner.
They were obliged to have salt at once, and he was the only great trader who brought it in by the flatboat load and kept it stored. He had a covered box in his cellar as large as one of their cabins, and it was always kept filled with cured meats. They stood with hands in their pockets and coonskin caps slouching over their brows, stating the case to Colonel Menard. But poverty has many grades.
Get, an eel into court. There is only one man in town who can hold an eel, and he isn't on the jury. Mr. Price will talk plentifully, in his nasal way; but he won't tell you anything. Mr. Price has been nominated to fill Deacon Lysander Richardson's shoes in the following manner: One day in the late autumn a man in a coonskin cap stops beside Mr. Price's woodpile, where Mr.
Both wore coonskin caps, but that of the younger preserved the tail to hang down like a plume among his glossy brown tangles of curls, which, but for a bit of restraining ribbon, resisted all semblance to the gentility of a queue.
He was busying himself in tying up the horrible exhibition in his red handkerchief preparatory to putting on his coonskin cap, for the brisk interest the children took in disrobing, so to speak, his scalpless head, did not extend to the task of properly accoutering it again, and repairing the disarray they themselves had made, for they had scampered off through the great gate of the fort.
The snowflakes were harder; they shot in level lines, clawing at her face. She could not see a hundred feet ahead. Kennicott was stern. He bent forward, the reins firm in his coonskin gauntlets. She was certain that he would get through. He always got through things. Save for his presence, the world and all normal living disappeared. They were lost in the boiling snow.
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