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To my great relief I presently saw that the ship was looking up high enough to justify the hope that she would claw off from the danger that menaced her to leeward; the sea being merely a short, irregular popple, with no weight in it to set us down toward the white water.
Brother Minkley had by this time begun to find and recover himself, and he sez with real good nature, "I meant to say, dear sister, that I hadn't seen you before since you lost your husband." "Since you murdered him," sez she. "I I murder a man?" He looked pale and trembled like a popple leaf. "Yes, you and all other good men who stood by like Pilate, consentin' to his death," Arvilly went on.
He stooped to put the basket back; then he turned his slow fagged eyes on his daughter. "Why, he worships the ground you walk on, Undie." "That's not always a reason, for a woman " It was the answer she would have given to Popple or Van Degen, but she saw in an instant the mistake of thinking it would impress her father.
She's never seen me!" Her tone implied that she had long been accustomed to being "wanted" by those who had. Mrs. Heeny laughed. "HE saw you, didn't he?" "Who? Ralph Marvell? Why, of course he did Mr. Popple brought him to the party here last night." "Well, there you are... When a young man in society wants to meet a girl again, he gets his sister to ask her." Undine stared at her incredulously.
After supper we played Old Sledge and my uncle had hard work to keep us in good countenance. We went to bed early and I lay long hearing the autumn wind in the popple leaves and thinking of that great thing which had grown strong within us, little by little, in the candle-light.
He reached the grove of popple trees and made his way at once to the spring. When he saw it, it gave him a shock. They had let it fill up with leaves and dirt. Overcome by the memories of the past, he flung him-sell down on the cool and shadowy bank, and gave him-sell up to the bittersweet reveries of a man returning to his boyhood's home.
The tone of social omniscience which he had once found so comic was now as offensive to him as a coarse physical touch. And the worst of it was that Popple, with the slight exaggeration of a caricature, really expressed the ideals of the world he frequented.
He was sitting on the horse trough, holding a horse's halter, while his hired man dashed cold water upon the galled spot on the animal's shoulder. After some preliminary talk Ripley presented his medicine. "Hell, no! What do I want of such stuff? When they's anything the matter with me, I take a lunkin' ol' swig of popple bark and bourbon! That fixes me." Uncle Ethan moved off up the lane.
"Sit down there, Louis, beside Mrs Taddi eh! ah! popple. Mr Addison, this is Jacques Caradoc, the best and stoutest hunter between Hudson's Bay and Oregon." Jacques smiled and bowed modestly as Mr Addison shook his hand. The worthy hunter did indeed at that moment look as if he fully merited Mr Kennedy's eulogium.
Van Degen was helping himself from the tray of iced cocktails which stood near the tea-table, and Popple, turning to Undine, took up the thread of his discourse. But why, he asked, why allude before others to feelings so few could understand? The average man lucky devil!
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