United States or Armenia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Sparling's defence was therefore read by one of his counsel, Mr. Park. It was very ably got up. He bitterly protested against the outcry that had been made against him in public, from the pulpit and by the press. He wholly denied bearing any malice towards Mr.
You have been keeping pretty late hours and working unusually hard. Good night." "Good night," answered Phil pleasantly. Man and boy had come to be very fond of each other, and Phil Forrest could not have felt a more genuine affection for Mr. Sparling had the latter been his own father. "A noble fellow," was Mr. Sparling's comment as the youth walked away from the cabin.
Sparling's cabin, during which time the lads had been sitting on the after deck of the boat. Phil had been very thoughtful. Perhaps he had not done right in keeping his real suspicions from Mr. Sparling. Yet he was firm in his purpose not to say who he thought the men were. He was not at all certain, in his own mind, that his eyes had not deceived him.
Phil did so, but his face refused to smile. He couldn't have smiled at that moment to save his life. All at once he wrenched himself loose from Mr. Sparling's grip, and ran full speed for the dressing tent. He had not gone more than a dozen feet before he tripped over a rope, landing on head and shoulders.
Would they never let her go to him? never let her say to him: "Oliver, take me! you did love me once what matters what came between us? That was in another world. Take my life crush out of it any drop of comfort or of ease it can give you! Cruel, cruel to refuse! It is mine to give and yours to spend!" Juliet Sparling's daughter. There was the great consecrating, liberating fact!
Sparling's office tent. The little clown was off on a run. "Hey, Phil, you old rascal! Where have you been?" he demanded, dashing into the small tent. "I have been out for a swim, old fellow. Did you miss me?" "I nearly broke my neck thinking about you this afternoon. Landed on my head in the leaping act, and I've got a pain in my neck yet."
How'd you get out?" "Your friend, Phil, here, is responsible for my not being in the freak class this morning. There's Mr. Sparling beckoning to you. I think he wants you both." The boys walked over as soon as they could get away from the others. That morning they sat at the executive table with the owner of the show, his wife and the members of Mr. Sparling's staff.
Sparling's office tent. "Well, if it isn't Billy Ford, the president of our class," breathed Teddy. "I didn't see him at the train when we came in this morning; did you?" "No. He wasn't there." "Now, what do you suppose he is doing in Mr. Sparling's tent?" "I haven't the least idea unless he is trying to find out where we are. Hey, Billy!"
Sparling's private office, for such was the use to which he put the little tent that the usher had called the "doghouse." "I wonder what he can want of me?" mused Phil. "Probably he wants to thank me for stopping that pony. I hope he doesn't. I don't like to be thanked. And it wasn't much of anything that I did anyway. Maybe he's going to but what's the use of guessing?"
Sparling hurrying past wrapped in oilskins and slouch hat. "This show gives a parade and two performances a day, rain, shine, snow or earthquake," was the emphatic answer. "Come over to my tent in half an hour. I have something to say to you." Phil ran across to Mr. Sparling's tent at the expiration of half an hour, but he was ahead of time evidently, for the showman was not there.
Word Of The Day