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Peewee surveyed his people to mark who had staid away from service, then Hope Wayne looked at the choir as if her whole soul were singing; and young Gabriel Bennet, younger than Hope, had a choking feeling as he gazed at her an involuntary sense of unworthiness and shame before such purity and grace.

And if you're out some evening with a friend a regular fella, they pop in the next day and say, 'Hello, Peewee, who was that street sweeper I see you palling with last night? Oh, he wasn't! Well, I had him pegged either as a street sweeper or a plumber!" "That's their speed. And they come again and again. They never give up. They've got visions of making a conquest some day on $1.50.

As Tom glanced at these crude reminders of his troop and former comrades, he noted wistfully how Peewee's initials were always cut unusually large and imposing, standing out boldly among others, as if to inform the observer that a giant had been at work. Everything about Peewee was tremendous except his size. Tom sat on this bench and waited. It reminded him of old times to be there.

"We were having a hot argument about the army, before you came in," Connie Bennett said. "Peewee claims the infantry is composed of infants...." "Sure," Roy vociferated, "just the same as the quartermaster is the man who has charge of all the twenty-five cent pieces. Am I right, Lucky Luke? Hear what Lucky Luke says? I'm right. Correct." "Who's going to boss the meeting to-night?"

'But my friends most gen'ally drop the fare down the right-hand side of the slot. "Me 'n' Peewee goes forward 'n' looks at the money box. The front of the car has warped till there's a big crack in the right-hand side of the box you can see the platform through. I drops two nickels in on that side, 'n' bing! they go down the shoot 'n' out the crack.

From the cooking shack where Chocolate Drop, the camp's famous cook, held autocratic sway and drove trespassing scouts away with a deadly frying pan, arose a graceful column of smoke which was carried away off over the wooded hills toward Leeds. Pretty soon Chocolate Drop would need two deadly frying pans, for Peewee Harris was coming.

Why doan't you put up four and let that Peewee kid hev one all by hisself?" "Do you think I can do it in six weeks?" Tom asked. "I've seed a Injun stockade throwed up in three days," Uncle Jeb answered. "Me'n General Custer throwed up Fort Bendy in two nights; that wuz in Montanny. Th' Injuns thought we wuz gods from heaven.

Boone goes 'n' drops a nickel down the chute, but she don't put it in the right side 'n' it trickles down into the box. When Orphy gets the car started after he's back, he turns 'round 'n' gives a sad look at the nickel in the box. "'Stung! says Peewee, 'n' I think he's goin' to fall off the car. "'What ails that young man? says Mrs. Boone to me. 'He seems to be havin' a spell.

But take your city directory and begin with Ab Abner and go right on through to Zeke Zimbo and don't skip any. And you'll get a clear idea about the particular gentlemen I'm talking about." Peewee sighed and shook her head. "Are you busy?" inquired the head manicurist. "Not at all," said Peewee, "not at all." Peewee's biographer asked a final question.

"My, I would like to hear what my mother would say if she could see the inside of that old tavern." "The worst thing of all," said Fred, "was the riot in the bar-room. I didn't sleep a wink last night." "You didn't sound that way, Freddie," said George. "What time did the noise downstairs stop, Peewee?" inquired John. "It didn't stop, I guess," laughed Fred.