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Then again the recent victory of the home eleven over Marshall seemed to have electrified the entire community, which was rapidly becoming "sport mad," as some of the old fogies complained. The Harmony Tigers showed up in a big carry-all motor-van about the time Jack and his followers trooped on the field, and began to pass the ball around to limber up their muscles for the great test.

Maynard declared that it was tree time. "Sounds like tea-time," said Kitty, as they trooped in. "Sounds a whole lot better than that!" said King. The tree was in the living-room. It had been brought in, and trimmed after the children went to bed the night before. So they had had no glimpse of it, and were now more than eager to see its glories. "Are we all here?" asked Mr.

It certainly was aunt Hannah's presence, for when the girls left the out-room and trooped up to Mary's chamber, they grew cheerful as birds again; and it was delightful to see them aiding each other in the arrangement of the little finery which was intended to make terrible havoc among the young men's hearts below.

The Sage King whistled again, and shot off with graceful sweep to meet them; Sarchedon plunged after him; Two Face and Plume jealously trooped down, too, but Dusty Ben, after a toss of his head, went on grazing. The gray and the black met Buckles and could not turn in time to stay with him. A girl's gay scream pealed up the slope, and Buckles went lower and faster. Sarchedon was left behind.

Jerry bustled off on her errand, leaving her friends engaged in an eager discussion of the coming festivity. A little later they trooped down the street to their favorite rendezvous, where most of their pocket money found a resting place. "We won't have a single bit of appetite for luncheon," commented Marjorie to Mary, when, an hour later, they set out for home.

Antonelli became a saviour; they reached out to touch him as he passed; they trooped into the snowy street, young men and old, and girls, and women holding children in their arms, their faces alight with something never known or felt before. Such was Antonelli to the strikers.

"And what's more, I don't care to hear about 'em. It it's time ye got back to the depot, Joe Follansbee and I'm goin' to close up anyways and give ye all a chance to burn your own oil." At this delicate invitation to vacate the premises the men rose and trooped out. Once outside, however, they felt compelled in spite of the bitter cold to comment a little further on the situation.

In the midst of the piece of music one of the younger misses, who was at a window over the close, cried on her sisters to come quick, for there was "Grey eyes again." The whole family trooped there at once, and crowded one another for a look. The window whither they ran was in an odd corner of that room, gave above the entrance-door, and flanked up the close. "Come, Mr.

The aged, white-bearded leader worked himself up into a frenzy and finally jumped on the periodical, stamping it under his feet until he was out of breath. Then this excited band trooped out of the room and left us in peace. "What is it?" I asked when their steps had died away. Sarakoff shrugged his shoulders and then laughed. He picked up the battered periodical and pointed to an article in it.

You don't expect us to knock round in those, do you?" "Sure not. But if you wore those caps you'd get sunstruck out on the plains. We've got some sombreros you can take." As the boys trooped out onto the piazza Tom espied a five-bar fence about a hundred yards from the house. "That's the horse corral," explained Horace, noting the direction of his friend's gaze.