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But a man who has been petticoat-ridden for years loses the knack, somehow, of comradeship with men. One Sunday in May Jo came home from a late-Sunday-afternoon walk to find company for supper. Carrie often had in one of her schoolteacher friends, or Babe one of her frivolous intimates, or even Eva a staid guest of the old-girl type.
Down at Lilly Dale the other day, a woman told me that she had talked with the mother of Edison, and the spirit-voice had said: "It is true I was a Canadian schoolteacher, and this at a time when very few women taught, but I am the mother of him you call Thomas A. Edison. I studied and read and wrote and in degree I educated myself. I had great ambition I thirsted to know, to do, to become.
His heart was seething with pride and triumph and passion as he strode down to the shore and flung himself on the cold sand in the black shadow of Michael Brown's beached boat. Byron Lyall, a grizzled, elderly man, half farmer, half fisherman, and Maxwell Holmes, the Prospect schoolteacher, came up to the boat presently. Paul lay softly and listened to what they were saying.
"That," he remarked, "must be of the Iowan order of architecture." He was given to teasing, and could be a little malicious. A proud and ambitious schoolteacher had married a well-off but decidedly Cockney Englishman, whose aspirates could be relied upon to do the expected.
What the secret of the man's power, or why the schoolteacher who sat on Miss Buffum's right should have become suddenly hilarious, or how Miss Buffum herself could be prodded or beguiled into smiles, no one at my end of the table could understand; and yet, as the days went by, it became more and more evident that not only were these two cold, brittle exteriors being slowly thawed out, but that every one else within the sound of his seductive voice was yielding to his influence.
She moved with alertness, and as the girl dismounted and approached her she raised her head and turned a pleasant face with deep-set, sightless gray eyes upon her visitor. "Good morning, Ethel, dear," she said. "I knew the pony's whinney. You're up early today." "Good morning, Nora," responded the schoolteacher, advancing to kiss the withered cheek. "Are you pretty well?" "In body, dear.
Not far from the spot there is a point of rocks extending out farther into the ocean than the rest of the island. Some four or five years ago there was a young woman residing at Gosport in the capacity of schoolteacher. She was of a romantic turn, and used to go and sit on this point of rock to view the waves.
Sandersen studied the schoolteacher closely. It was impossible to mistake the frankness of the latter's face. "By guns," he said at last, "I see it all now. The skunk sneaked off in the middle of the night and left you alone here to face the music?" Jig flushed, as she exclaimed: "That's not true. He's never run away in his life." "Maybe not," muttered Sandersen apprehensively.
And all through the years, in trouble and in happiness, her plaint was the same "If I'd thought I was going to stick down on a farm all my life, slavin' for a pack of menfolks day and night, I'd rather have died. Might as well be dead as rottin' here." Her schoolteacher English had early reverted. Her speech was as slovenly as her dress.
"It's Sheriff Kern," said Jerry Bent. "I can tell by the way he rides, sort of slanting. It's Kern, right enough." Sally Bent choked, but Jig continued to hum softly. "Singin'?" asked Riley Sinclair suddenly. "Ain't you no more worried than that?" The voice of the schoolteacher in reply was as smooth as running water. "I think you'll bring me out of the trouble safely enough, Mr. Sinclair." "Mr.
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