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Wyatt's face blazed. "You lie, Paul Cotter," he exclaimed. "You couldn't do such a thing!" "Oh, yes, I could," said Paul merrily, "but you're losing your temper again, Braxton. You should never call anybody a liar when you're within range of his gun. No, we're not going to shoot. We always respect a flag of truce, though we doubt whether you would.
They had one odd feature, not easy to describe in words: a triangular porch projected from above the door, supported at the apex by a single upright post; a secondary door was hinged to the post, and could be hasped on either cheek of the real entrance; so, whether the wind was north or south, the cotter could make himself a triangular bight of shelter where to set his chair and finish a pipe with comfort.
Paul Cotter, looking over the palisade, could see nothing. The forest rose up like a solid dark wall, and in the opening not a blade of grass stirred; the battle, the savage army, all seemed to have gone like smoke melting into the air, and Paul was appalled, feeling that a magic hand had abruptly swept everything out of existence.
No one can entertain a doubt but that pork will be raised, and bacon cured, to such an extent in America, as to deprive the Irish cotter of the assistance he has heretofore derived from his pig, and that foreign butter will supplant his in the English market: and that, in consequence, Irish lands must greatly fall in value, unless they be applied to the rearing and fattening of cattle; and such being the case, what a prospect have both the Irish gentry and the Irish people before them, ruin, if the small farmers are allowed to continue in occupation; and desolation and insurrection if they be removed.
She says he's suffering dreadfully from rheumatism, though he won't admit it, and if he goes out to-night... But he's so determined, poor old dear. And she simply can't stop him." "Cotter," I said, "must stay at home." "But he won't," said my wife. "Military ardour is very strong in him," said Janet. "I'll ring up Dr.
The young man had shown great skill with the sword he had disarmed me in a little encounter; I admit that, too and we wished to test his agility and courage against a master, who was instructed not to hurt him seriously under any circumstances." He spoke rapidly and lightly, almost convincingly. But Henry Ware interrupted. "His object," he said, "was to have Paul Cotter killed."
They would meet together and say: "Oh, Father of Jesus Christ, help us to be good like Jesus;" and then Jesus himself would make one of them, and worship the Father with them! The next thing, as a matter of course, was to look about for a third. "Dawtie!" cried both at once. Dawtie was the child of a cotter pair, who had an acre or two of their father's farm, and helped him with it.
It was a wonderful thing to see, and it made me feel just a little bit creepy for a second or two. Mebbe you an' your cousin, Harry Kenton, are Henry Ware an' Paul Cotter, their very selves come back to earth. It looks curious that both of you should wander to this little place hid deep in the mountains. But it's happened all the same.
Leave apples for others. Remember that they are protected by strict orders against all wandering and irresponsible officers, but ourselves." "Yes, be good, Dick," said Pennington, and the two went down the slope, leaving Dick on the portico. He liked being alone at times. The serious cast of mind that he had inherited from his famous great grandfather, Paul Cotter, demanded moments of meditation.
Clear and smooth was gash after gash, cut in the bark, one above another, by Sol with his stout knife. "Every one o' them is a day," said Shif'less Sol, "an' to-day is the 24th of December. Now, what is to-morrow, Paul Cotter?" "The 25th of December Christmas Day." "An' oughtn't we to hev Christmas, too, even ef we are up here in the wild woods, all by ourselves? Don't this look like Christmas?"
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