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"What's that?" "Nothing; only it spells that." "How soon'll you be up again?" "I do not know. In a few weeks." "Before the nuts is ripe?" "O yes, I hope so." "Well, I'll shew you where there's the biggest hickory nuts you ever see! They're right back of Mr. Lamb's barn only three fields to cross and there's three hickory trees; and the biggest one has the biggest nuts, mother says, she ever see.

"What's that?" "Nothing; only it spells that." "How soon'll you be up again?" "I do not know. In a few weeks." "Before the nuts is ripe?" "Oh, yes, I hope so." "Well, I'll show you where there's the biggest hickory nuts you ever see! They're right back of Mr.

Bostil again remembered the sleek, slim, racy thoroughbreds Blue Roan, a wild horse he had longed to own, and Peg, a mare that had no equal in the uplands. Where did Bostil's hate of a man stand in comparison with love of a horse? He began to sweat and the sweat burned him. "How soon'll Creech hear the river an' know what's comin'?" muttered Bostil, darkly.

Rarely a vast convoy, herded like sheep, drove by, the dogs of war barking at the laggards. For the rest naked waters, ship-forsaken. "It's the Medusa" said the Parson deliberately. "How soon'll she be off here, think you, sailor-boy?" "I hardly know, sir. With this breeze I should think she might be abreast of us in two hours, and round the Head in four."

"First and last, I've been called a good many names some full hard but never a philosopher before." Kate started for the front door: "Hold on a minute," he objected, "what's to do here while you're gone?" "Serve coffee and sandwiches if anybody comes in. This time of day there's never anybody comes in." He turned on his stool: "How soon'll you be back?" "In a few minutes."