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"Not but what my man's good enough, but he don't seem to get along, somehow. The farm's wore out, and the mortgage comes around so regular." "Where do you live?" asked Victoria, suddenly growing serious. "Fitch's place. 'Tain't very far from the Four Corners, on the Avalon road." "And you are Mrs. Fitch?" "Callate to be," said the mother. "If it ain't askin' too much, I'd like to know your name."
Ought to had more lickings when you was young." "Aw!" said Tom. "Join him?" asked Peter after a pause. "No, I won't, an' he's no right to ask it, an' he knows it. Them dirty mines may pay an' they may not, but the farm's a safe thing an' I'll stick to it." "Maybe new capt'n'll make things go better.
We ought to thank you heartily," said Miss Barbara, when the battle-ground had been shown and the club had heard all the interesting things that were known about the great fight. Then they came back by way of the old family burying-place and read the quaint epitaphs, which Mr. Picknell himself had cut deeper and kept from wearing away. It seemed that they never could forget the old farm's history.
"Yes," said the old lady, nodding her head two or three times; "Mr. Van Brunt is a good farmer very good there's no doubt about that." "I wonder what he'd do," said Miss Fortune, quickly and sharply, as before, "if there warn't a head to manage for him! Oh, the farm's well enough, Miss Alice tain't that; every one knows where his own shoe pinches."
"And as to the men I've an idea a farm's the better for a master that works with his men as you've always done, instead of going about talking big and doing nothing." The elder brother cleared his throat again, and sat staring before him, drumming with his fingers on the edge of the chair. "And what about you?" he asked, after a while. "Oh, I'll look after myself all right.
If you're sot upon it! That's enough fer me, I guess, ef you're rale sot on it, and you don't think 'twould be better like to wait a little. He could study with Barkman fer a year anyway without losin' time. No! wall, wall. I'm right thar when you want me. I'll go to work to do what I kin.... "P'r'aps we might sell off and go East, too. The farm's worth money now it's all settled up round hyar.
But don't you see, Oliver, I couldn't say it for myself? No girl could. But I can for 'Delia." "Well," said Oliver, "well." He was entirely amazed. Then as he looked at the field, a general maxim occurred to him, and he remarked, "The farm's got to be carried on." "No, it ain't, either," said Isabel, with a passionate earnestness, "not as you do it.
"I believe I'm gittin' real homesick to see Mariar," he said with a sigh. "I'd give a good deal for a letter from her. I do hope everything on the farm's all right. I think it is. I'm a little worried about Brown Susy, the mare, but I think she'll pick up as the weather settles. I hope her fool colt, that I've give Si, won't break his leg nor nothin' while I'm away."
Ripley intended calling there, I asked leave to go with him, and was told to be in the library, which was also the President's office, at four o'clock. Not being accustomed to Brook Farm's quick changes, my little talk with Dr. Ripley made me a few minutes late at the Knoll, where I found two-score or so of children and half as many grown-ups engaged in a snowball scrimmage.
As the house contained some twenty of these volumes, I presumed that they betrayed the religious leanings of the farm's absent owner. A row of decently ventilated stables faced the farmhouse, while at the end of the courtyard, opposite to the entrance gates, stood an enormous high-doored barn.
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