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Take 'im off, Mr. George." George was scarcely listening. His thoughts had returned to the delicious task of fingering his great idea. "Take 'im off, Mr. George," Mr. Fletcher implored. George passed a handkerchief under Abiram's collar; tugged for the gate; there dispatched the dog down the road. Abiram shook his head; trotted with dejected stern. A job had been left unfinished.
Abiram's question was one of those lucky inspirations that sometimes strike one, changing, as by magic, obscurity into distinctness, and pouring in a flood of light where no ray could be seen before. "My word!" cried Lizzie, her whole face lighting up with eagerness and joy "my word, close up mine been forget. Mine know one fellow bora ground, plenty black fellow sit down there, mine believe.
George told him: "You do it awfully well, though; so neat." "Call 'im off," Mr. Fletcher moaned. "He'll have me in a minute. He's 'ad a bit off of me calf; he's 'ad a piece out of me trousers. He'll go on. He's a methodical dog ur!" George took a step; caught Abiram's collar. "How on earth did you get up there?" "Jumped." "Jumped! You couldn't jump up there!" Mr.
When she was alone with her mother, she said abruptly, "We aint a-goin' to stay here long, nuther." "Why not?" was the sharp, responsive query. "'Cause the same look's comin' into his face that was in Cousin Lemuel's and Cousin Abiram's and all the rest of 'em. 'Fi's you I'd keep still now. 'Pears to me they all want you to keep still and you won't." "Jane," said Mrs.
But the popular hero knows right well, that the ground is already mined under his feet; the first reverse will drag him down into a pit of obscurity, if not of odium, deep and dark as Abiram's grave.
Will they not rather imitate Korah, Dathan, and Abiram's friends, even rail at me for condemning him, as they did at Moses for doing execution? I know it is ill puddling in the cockatrice's den, and that they run hazards that hunt the wild boar. The man also that writeth Mr.
Weeks irritably put a period to this phase of diplomacy by saying, "Well, well, Cynthy, the stage will be along in a couple of hours. We'll put you and your things aboard, and you can go on with what you call your negotiations at Cousin Abiram's. I can tell you one thing though if you write any such letter to Holcroft, you'll never hear from him again."
Cousin Abiram's was the next place in the order of visitation, but her last experience there left her in painful doubt as to a future reception. Therefore she tied on a new cap, smoothed her apron, and rocked with unwonted rapidity. "It'll be according to the ordering of Providence " "Oh, pshaw!" interrupted Cousin Lemuel, "it'll be according to whether you've got any sense or not." Mrs.
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