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"I tell you how it was, jedge. I was a-comin' along past dat lumber-yard one Saturday afternoon, and I hadn't been wuckin', an' I saw dat piece o' pipe thoo de fence, lyin' inside, and I jes' reached thoo with a piece o' boad I found dey and pulled it over to me an' tuck it.
An' you boys remember when 'lection time comes, to vote fer a sheriff that's got disgression an' common sense." And with ludicrous alacrity, the deputy scrambled from the platform and disappeared into the deep blackness of the lumber-yard. The Texan fitted the key into the huge padlock and a moment later the door swung open and a dozen cowpunchers swarmed in.
She dreamed that a whole regiment of beams, 36 ft. x 5 in., were advancing in an upright position to do battle against the lumber-yard; that the beams and joists and clamps were knocking against each other, emitting the sharp crackling reports of dry wood, that they were all falling and then rising again, piling on top of each other.
Halvor Skoogerson, a pale-eyed guardian of the peace, who was studying up to be a naturalized, would arrest him for theft, riot, disorderly conduct, suspicious appearance and intoxication, not understanding why any sober man would want to carry a young lumber-yard home under his coat at night.
"Go back, Helen," he said, quickly, "go as far as that second house, or I shall not feel sure you are safe. Mrs. Nevins, we must look for Charley. I am afraid he was in the lumber-yard this afternoon"
Stripped to their undershirts, they worked all through the hot prairie evenings in the oil-smelling, greasy engine-room of the local power-house, in front of the dynamos, which kept evilly throwing out green sparks and rumbling the mystic syllable "Om-m-m-m," to greet their modern magic. They hunted for three-quarter-inch willow rods, but discarded them for seasoned ash from the lumber-yard.
I recall one good man who seemed to have no other qualification for the office. He frankly admitted that he had worked in a mill and in a lumber-yard, and said he liked preaching "better than anything he'd ever been at." He was very sincere and honest. He had a uniform lead in prayer: "O Lord, we thank thee that it is as well with us as what it is."
What you think Willie's doin'? I bet you can't g " "Jane!" Mrs Baxter spoke sharply. "Tell me what Genesis said, at once." "Yes'm. Willie's sittin' in a lumber-yard that Genesis comes by on his way from over on the avynoo where all the colored people live an' he's countin' knot-holes in shingles." "He is WHAT?" "Yes'm.
But now there was the same emptiness in her heart and brain as in her yard. It was as galling and bitter as a taste of wormwood. Gradually the town grew up all around. The Gypsy Road had become a street, and where the Tivoli and the lumber-yard had been, there were now houses and a row of side streets. How quickly time flies! Olenka's house turned gloomy, the roof rusty, the shed slanting.
In the year 1800, he found a favorable opportunity to escape from his unfeeling master, and made his way to Philadelphia, where he procured employment in a lumber-yard, under the name of John Smith. He was so diligent and faithful, that he soon gained the good-will and confidence of his employers. He married a worthy, industrious woman, with whom he lived happily.
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