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But the Bonnie Lassie shook her bonnie head privately and said that the fine-feathers development was a bad sign, and that if young Berthelin would obligingly run his seventeen-jeweled roadster off the Williamsburgh Bridge, with himself in it, much trouble might be saved for all concerned. If little Mayme were headed for trouble, she went to meet it with a smiling face.
"Get up to date," advised Mayme. "I'm old enough to be your steady. Only, I'm too lucky." "That's a bad cough you've got," said the Little Red Doctor hastily. "I've got a better one at home. Like to hear it some day?" "Bring it over to my office and let's look at the thing," suggested the Little Red Doctor, smiling.
"Don't call me 'Ma," snapped the goaded Mrs. Berthelin. "And this is the girl?" She looked Mayme up and down. Mayme did the same by her and did it better. "I could give you a lorny-yette and beat you at the frozen-stare trick," said the irrepressible Mayme at the conclusion of the duel which ended in her favor. The Little Red Doctor gurgled.
Dolan ought to be canned for makin' a pinch of a lady in the fam'ly way." "What if they do let her off?" lamented the youth. "It'll be in all the papers and I'll be ruined. My life's spoiled. I might as well leave the city." "Ah, don't do a mean trick like that to the old town!" besought the sardonic Mayme. "Where do you come in to get hurt?"
Our Generall Might easily have tane it, for he had Almost a thousand scaling ladders to sett up; And without mayme to's army he might loose A thousand men: but he was loath to robb An almes-house when he had a richer market To buy a conquest in. Mac. What was that market? Pike. Mac. A poast with speed, to Lisbon, And see't well mand. Ten. One shalbe sent, my Lord. The soldiers laugh. Alq.
His elbows were propped on his knees, his fists supported his cheekbones, his whole figure was in a slump of misery. Scrutinizing him with surprise, Mayme was shocked to see a glistening drop, detached from his drooping countenance, fall to the pavement, followed by another. At the same time she heard an unmistakable and melancholic sound. The benches in Our Square have seen more life than most.
"I'd rather see a son of mine dead than a common soldier!" cried Mrs. Berthelin. The Bonnie Lassie, very white, rose. "You must leave this house," she said. "At once. Think yourself fortunate that I cannot bring myself to betray a guest. Otherwise I should report you to the authorities." Young David addressed Mayme in the words and tone of a misunderstood and aggrieved pet. "You think I'm no good.
I saw the Bonnie Lassie's eyelids quiver, but her face was cold and impassive as she turned to the visitor. "Mrs. Berthelin," said she, "you have made some very damaging statements, before witnesses, about Miss McCartney's character. What proof have you?" "Why, he wants to marry her!" almost yelled the mother. "She's trapped him." "That's another lie," said Mayme.
"He told me himself that he was going to marry you." "Did he? Then he's wrong. I wouldn't marry him with a brass ring," asserted Mayme. "You wouldn't mar You wouldn't what?" demanded the mother, outraged and incredulous. "You heard me. He knows it, too. I don't like the family what I've seen of them," observed Mayme judicially. "Besides, he's yellow." David's shamed face emerged into view.
Accordingly she laughed. The intruder lifted a woeful face, gave her one vague look, and reverted to his former posture. Mayme stopped laughing. She advanced and put a friendly hand on one of the humped shoulders. "Cheer up, Buddy," she said. "It ain't as bad as you think it is." "It's worse," gulped a choky voice. Then the head lifted again. "Who are you?" it demanded.
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