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'This is a description of animal food, Alderman, said Filer, making little punches in it with a pencil-case, 'commonly known to the labouring population of this country, by the name of tripe. The Alderman laughed, and winked; for he was a merry fellow, Alderman Cute. Oh, and a sly fellow too! A knowing fellow. Up to everything. Not to be imposed upon. Deep in the people's hearts!
The audience had really been very patient, and up to this point deserved Verena's praise; but it was now long past eight o'clock, and symptoms of irritation cries and groans and hisses began again to proceed from the hall. Mr. Filer launched himself into the passage leading to the stage, and Selah rushed after him. Mrs.
"He says she's just a little faint from nervousness. She'll be all ready in about three minutes." This announcement was Mr. Pardon's contribution to the crisis; and he added that the crowd was a lovely crowd, it was a real Boston crowd, it was perfectly good-humoured. "There's a lovely crowd, and a real Boston one too, I guess, in here!" cried Mr. Filer, now banging very hard.
Of course Helen could not refuse him; there must be many thoughts coming into his mind which he would wish to share with her who had known his daughter so long and been with filer in her last days. She returned into the great parlor with the wrought cornices and the medallion-portraits on the ceiling. "I am now alone in the world," Dudley Veneer said. Helen must have known that before he spoke.
I got it that I was in a place called Ragtown, and I know they's such a place, cause everybody tells me so. And I was sick after the dream. Funny! I'm drifting that a way now. I want to see that Ragtown. Was it a dream? Or was the yuccas laughin' at ole Filer ag'in? I dunno. But how come it I dreamed about a place called Ragtown, a place that really is but that I never seen?"
And the lank, haggard youth laughed merrily, as if he had been recounting a series of the happiest adventures. "But is there no redress for such iniquitous oppression," said Morley, who had listened with astonishment to this complacent statement. "Is there no magistrate to apply to?" "No no," said the filer with an air of obvious pride, "we don't have no magistrates at Wodgate.
We have nothing whatever to do but wait for Jerkline Jo to come to us and ask us what our terms are. Then if you and I aren't foxy enough to squeeze out the amiable Mr. Pete Well, leave it to me!" "But have you thought," Drummond pointed out, "that perhaps Filer has committed the instructions to memory?" Lucy scoffed at this and dismissed it with: "That old lunatic? Never!
You are mine, you are not theirs." "What under the sun is the man talking about? With the most magnificent audience ever brought together! The city of Boston is under this roof!" Mr. Filer gaspingly interposed. "The city of Boston be damned!" said Ransom. "Mr. Ransom is very much interested in my daughter. He doesn't approve of our views," Selah Tarrant explained.
'I don't agree with Cute here, for instance, said Sir Joseph, holding out the letter. 'I don't agree with the Filer party. I don't agree with any party. My friend the Poor Man, has no business with anything of that sort, and nothing of that sort has any business with him. My friend the Poor Man, in my district, is my business.
"We're goin' out there," croaked Filer, a trembling finger pointing toward the fragrant desert. "It's spring, Baby Jean and now's the time to hunt for gold, when there's lots o' feed for the little fellas." "Gold!" cried Jo. "Why, man, you've so much money coming to you that you can't spend it in the rest of your natural life." "Money?" he said absently. "Yes you've done me han'some, Baby Jean.
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