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Duruy 'n' Sam 'n' Felicia Hemans all drove over with the doctor, 'n' Dr. Carter had telegraphed young Dr. Brown to come 'n' observe Mr. Duruy's fit with him, so Dr. Brown 'n' Amelia 's home too, 'n' all down around the crick is real gay. O' course Mrs. Macy 'd done with the fit afore they got there, but young Dr. Brown wants Dr. Carter to stay over night 'n' observe Henry Ward Beecher, 'n' Dr.
In this age of prose, when men's hearts turn point-blank from blank verse to the business of chaining two worlds by cable and of daring to fly with birds; when scholars, ever busy with the dead, are suffering crick in the neck from looking backward to the good old days when Romance wore a tin helmet on his head or lace in his sleeves in such an age Simon Binswanger first beheld the high-flung torch of Goddess Liberty from the fore of the steerage deck of a wooden ship, his small body huddled in the sag of calico skirt between his mother's knees, and the sky-line and clothes-lines of the lower East Side dawning upon his uncomprehending eyes.
"What you and Si needs," he would say to Shorty, "is chicken and fresh 'taters. If you could have a good mess of chicken and 'taters every day you'd come up like Spring shoats. I declare I'd give that crick bottom medder o' mine, which hasn't it's beat on the Wabash, to have mother's coopful o' chickens here this minute."
But to the boys, as to all the villagers of quiet Frosty Hollow, it was known as "the Crick." To "the Crick" the Carters owed their little farm. Mrs. Carter was a sea captain's widow, living with her two boys, Will and Ted, in a small yellow cottage on the crest of a green hill by the water.
"Yeh, three are at large somewhere, Ah reckon; but two of the worst ones out of that five are back yonder. Hank Johnson and his jail-bird pal are down on Four Mile Blaze. When we get the other three, we'll rid Oak Crick of five of its worst citizens." "Rattle-Snake Mike came up with us, Bill. We rode up the Indian Trail that's how we got here so soon.
The face, caricatured a hundred thousand times, was hawklike, the eyes bright and searching, the chin out-thrust. He had a nervous trick of jerking his head sideways as though he were everlastingly suffering from a crick in the neck. Now and again he raised his glasses to watch the leader as he controlled the evolutions of the twenty-five airplanes which constituted the "circus."
Now the more camp meetin's we have around here, the less pursonal liberty we shall have; and I propose to you'ns that we jine with the boys on Honey Crick and bust up the camp meetin'." This proposition was hailed with delight by all the company except Long Tom. When he had cleared his mouth of juice, he drawled out: "Byes, none of ye would like to see that meetin' capsized better nor I would.
She likes to have him around till she leans ag'in' him and rubs the paint off, then she's out shootin' eyes at another one." "Are there others besides Jedlick?" "That bartender boards there at the ho-tel. He's got four gold teeth, and he picks 'em with a quill. Sounds like somebody slappin' the crick with a fishin'-pole.
Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount strand? Crush, crack, crick, crick. Wild sea money. Dominie Deasy kens them a'. Won't you come to Sandymount, Madeline the mare? Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. No, agallop: deline the mare. Open your eyes now. I will. One moment. Has all vanished since? If I open and am for ever in the black adiaphane. Basta!
He marched in his young way across to the switches and set the room in the blaze he loved. My crick of the conscience was followed by an impulse of resentment. He took it for granted that his will was law in the house. He swaggered around the room with a proprietary air. He threw in the casual "Lola" as if he owned her. Dale is the most delightful specimen of the modern youth of my acquaintance.
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