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I heard Brian scream, and I ran down to the lake. He was not drowned, was he? Oh, if I had saved him! mother would be so glad; because he is my enemy, you know. Why does my head ache so much; it all seems confused too. I wish you would believe me, Uncle Hugh; indeed I told the truth." The man of starch bent down till his face was very near to Jeff.
They know how to keep a hotel." "Go to Switzerland?" asked Whitwell. "I slipped over into the edge of it." "I want to know! Well, now them Alps, now they so much bigger 'n the White Hills, after all?" "Well, I don't know about all of 'em," said Jeff.
In some it was dog and dog; in some child and child, and in others dogs and children mixed. Then they all halted to observe the outcome of the discussion between Mrs. Bolster and Jeff Hackberry. "Holler 'nuff, Jeff, or out goes yer last light," commanded Mrs.
We will find your mother's maid or the stewardess, but you must promise to be very gentle and not to agitate her." Jeff smiled with superior wisdom. How could his presence agitate his beloved mother? At one of the state-room doors off the saloon Captain Clark knocked gently.
"Wal, then, the night afore he sailed, the Gineral he hed his lawyer up in his library there, a lookin' over all his papers and bonds and things, and a witnessing his will; and Master Jeff was there, as lively as a cricket, a goin' into all affairs, and offerin' to take precious good care while he was gone; and the Gineral he had his papers and letters out, a sortin' on 'em over, which was to be took to the old country, and which was to be put in a trunk to go back to Lawyer Dennis's office.
"Northerners never seem to be able to git it through their heads that a darky kin be loud-mouthed and close-mouthed at the same time. Now you take that black boy Jeff of mine. Jeff knows more about me my habits, my likes and my dislikes, my private business and my private thoughts and all than I know myself.
"No, Jeff, I've not come back for that, and I did not leave you yesterday: it is three days and more since we parted. The book has brought us luck, and the best. We have found our man; and they'll be here to-night with him. I came on ahead to see how you fared." In that frost-bitten world Jeff Hyde uncovered his head for a moment.
The pain in her shoulder was becoming intense. And then, to her amazement, Jeff Ironside suddenly stooped and put his arms about her. Almost before she realized his intention, and while she was still gasping her astonishment, he had lifted her and begun to move with long, easy strides over the sodden turf. "Oh," she said, "you you really you shouldn't!" "It's the only thing to do," he returned.
"Oh, never mind that now!" cried Jeff, and in the dim passageway he took her in his arms and kissed her. He would have released her, but she lingered in his embrace. "Will you promise that if there's ever anything like it again, you won't wait for me to make you?" "I like your having made me, but I promise," he said. Then she tightened her arms round his neck and kissed him.
It seems as if the conscious humorists, the professional funny writers, had the shortest lease of literary life. They play their little comic parts before a well-disposed but restless audience which is already impatiently waiting for some other "turn." One of them makes a hit with a song or story, just as a draughtsman for a Sunday colored supplement makes a hit with his "Mutt and Jeff."
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