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Ryfe, I don't mind owning I am bitterly and grievously disappointed. There, I suppose it's not your fault, so you needn't look black about it; and I dare say you did the best you could afford at the price. Well, I don't want to hurt your feelings your very best, then. And yet it seems very odd you were so confident at first.
The very sneaking, cowardly way in which he acted, did not appeal to me as natural. I could not deny his story those approaching Indians alone were proof that he fled from a real danger; and yet and yet, to my mind he could not represent anything but treachery. I possessed but one desire to kick the cringing cur. I stood at a loophole watching the approaching savages.
Pure poetry is pure experiment; and it is not strange that nine-tenths of it should be pure failure. For it matters little what unutterable things may have originally gone together with a phrase in the dreamer's mind; if they were not uttered and the phrase cannot call them back, this verbal relic is none the richer for the high company it may once have kept.
Perhaps I am idealizing the luncheon, as Walter says, but as part and parcel of a day of unallayed happiness it stands out in my mind as a feast of the gods, despite all adverse criticism. Being a mere man, as Lydia expresses it, Walter feels the discomforts of travel more than we women folk.
The minister was evidently annoyed, not so much by the opening and shutting of the door as by the inattention of his hearers, who kept turning round their heads to see who the new arrivals were. At length the minister could bear it no longer. "My dear people," he said, pausing in the reading, "never mind those coming in.
"The truth is the truth," protested Lowrie. "Besides " "I know I know. But jest make yourself scarce for a couple of days." "I'll keep on going, Pop. Thanks!" "Never mind, ain't no hurry. Riley's out of town and won't be back for a day or so. But, speaking personal, I'd rather step into a nest of rattlers than talk to Riley, the way he's feeling now."
The battle against vice and crime in the world of the body ought to be paralleled by a battle against superstition and humbug in the world of the mind. The victory over the social underworld would anyhow never be lasting unless the intellectual underworld were subjugated first. In the atmosphere of sham-truth all the antisocial instincts grow rankly.
"There's nothing pleasant to me, in this wicked world," said Miss Pryor, dolorously. "How is your rheumatism, Mrs. Wynn?" she asked again, after a prolonged silence, hoping better success from this question regarding that worthy lady's manifold ailments. "It's heavenly in comparison with the state of my mind," was the unlooked-for response.
"I guess we two kin handle him," said Shorty, slipping his belt into the holster of the revolver and buckling it on. "Give us a fair show at him, and we don't want no help. I wouldn't mind having it out with Mr. Bolivar all by myself." "Well, my plan is for you to go out by yourselves to that place where you were on picket.
"Well?" "We won't work under George Brown. We don't mind working with niggers, but we won't work under a nigger." "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I must hire my own men. Here is your money."
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