United States or Eritrea ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


Guly bowed, and knelt beside his dusky friend; and as he prayed, the great white tears rolled over Jeff's cheeks, and fell down on the box by which he was kneeling. The prayer was ended and Jeff rose to go. "Good night, Jeff," said Guly, holding out his hand. "Good night, young Massar; God forever bress your heart."

"I'm glad Jeff didn't tell you," said Westover, with a revulsion of good feeling toward him. "He'd 'a' died first," said his mother. "But Mr. Whit'ell done just right all through, and I sha'n't soon forget it. Jeff's give me a proper goin' over for what I done; both the boys have. But I couldn't help it, and I should do just so again.

An automobile had halted on a slight elevation and in it stood Moore and a taller man gesticulating as he spoke. And about them, like a pulsing carpet lifted and stirred by a breeze of feeling, were the men Jeff's instinct had smelled out. They were packed into a mass. And they were silent. Weedon Moore began again. "Kill out this superstition of a country. Kill it out, I say.

The women wept quietly, but Jeff's eyes were dry, though his face was discharged of all its prepotent impudence. Westover, standing across the grave from him, noticed the marks on his forehead that he said were from his scrapping, and wondered what really made them.

"Not everybody could get such an invitation. We couldn't, only that he's Uncle Jeff's friend. But I can tell you, girls, if I hadn't got up this whole scheme we wouldn't have been asked there. You can thank me for it." "Dolly, too," said Dotty. "If she hadn't asked Mrs. Berry, he wouldn't have come at all." "Yes, he would; why wouldn't he?" "Oh, pshaw! It was all made up by Uncle Jeff.

You see it was just at this time that Mr. Smith's caff opened, and Mr. Smith came to Jeff's Woman and said he wanted seven dozen eggs a day, and wanted them handy, and so the hens are back, and more of them, and they exult so every morning over the eggs they lay that if you wanted to talk of Rockefeller in the barber shop you couldn't hear his name for the cackling.

He had a most pertinacious way of poking his nose into all sorts of affairs, not at all after the manner of the usual pig, but more like a village gossip who wants to know about everything that is going on in the neighborhood. In the gradual development of "Jeff's" character, it was discovered that he had none of the usual well-known traits of the pig.

The old Confederate's first impulse had been to run an extra immediately, but he was argued out of it. "We don't want to go off half cocked. We've got a beautiful comeback if we play it right. That is, if Jeff's got any proof. But we better wait and let Jeff run the newspaper end of it, Captain." This was Hardy's view, and it was indorsed by the others. "Another thing.

Nan had constituted herself Jeff's substitute during his absence, and performed his share of the labor with a skill and efficiency which astonished even her father. She was a little weary just now. The heat was trying.

Again the judge expounded at length, touching both upon upheavals abroad and on discords nearer home. Next it was Jeff's turn to make disclosures having a purely local application and he made them. Listening intently, Judge Priest puckered his bald brow into furrows of perplexity. "Jeff," he said finally, "I'm much obliged to you fur tellin' me all this.