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Locher has cited an instance of avulsion of the finger with restitution of the avulsed portion; and Brulet, Van Esh, Farmer, Ponteau, Regnault, and Rosenberg cite instances of reunion of a digit after amputation or severance. Eve's "Remarkable Cases in Surgery" contains many instances of reunion of both fingers and thumbs, and in more recent years several other similar cases have been reported.
The farmer to whom they applied, having learnt that it was for Francis of Assisi, of whom he had heard so much good spoken, went to fetch his own ass to carry him on, during the journey.
"I shouldn't wonder if prices advanced a little," said the farmer. "Wouldn't you?" And the stranger looked into the farmer's face with a very innocent expression. "It can't go much lower; if there should be any change, it will doubtless be an improvement." "How much wheat have you?" asked the sportsman. "I've about a thousand bushels left." "A thousand bushels.
And quickly did they proceed to fall in behind their leader and the farmer. Under ordinary conditions, perhaps, it might have occurred to the patrol leader to throw some sort of guard around the cabin, so as to prevent the escape of the desperate thief. He did not think of doing such a thing now, for various reasons.
"He has a proper claim to take his wife, Robert," said the farmer. "He's righted her before the world, and I thank him; and if he asks for her of me he must have her, and he shall." "All right, sir," replied Robert, "and I say too, shall, when I'm stiff as log-wood." "Oh! Robert, Robert!" Rhoda cried in great joy. "Do you mean that you step 'twixt me and my own?" said Mr. Fleming.
Mick remained seated on his horse, bewildered-looking, staring first at Farmer, then at Dad. "Well?" Dad remarked, still grinning. Then Mick spoke feelingly. "YOU SWINDLING OLD CRAWLER!" he said, and galloped away. It was well for him he got a good start.
The young farmer said nothing for a moment, but seemed to reflect; then he said that there were stories about the place, stories that perhaps it was foolish to believe, but he went on to say that it was better to be on the safe side in all things, and that the place had an evil fame. Then Roderick with childish eagerness asked him what the stories were; and little by little the farmer told him.
When will she be in?" Her father plucked at her dress. "Best not go making the young woman repeat herself. She says, nobody's at home to ask us in. There's no more, then, to trouble her for." "At twelve o'clock to-morrow?" Rhoda faltered. "Would you, if you please, call again at twelve o'clock to-morrow, and punctually she would be here," said the maid. The farmer hung his head and turned.
The only child of a close-fisted, saving farmer, he found himself on his father's death more than sufficiently well-off to go to college and later to study law.
So the young couple moved to Cyrenaica, and Dada was happy in learning to govern her husband's large estates with prudence and good sense. The gay singing-girl became a capable housewife, and the idle horse-loving Marcus a diligent farmer.
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