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"My, if you're not the mortal image of him as he used to be at your age! I can scarcely believe it isn't Nate. His forehead was high like yours, an' the hair waved back from it the same way; he had your eyes too full of fun, an' yet earnest an' thoughtful. I ain't sure but you're a mite taller than he was, though." "I top Dad by six inches, Aunt Tiny," smiled the young man.

I don't belong in a white flannel suit. I ain't no imitation dude." "And I don't belong in Sam Keith's yacht. At least Mr. Keith and Edna would feel that I didn't. I don't want to be considered an imitation, either." Shadrach shook his head. "You ain't like anybody else," he said. "You're a funny girl, Mary-'Gusta."

Marise stood up, carrying the old woman with her. She was entirely certain now that she was in a nightmare, from which she would presently awake, wet with cold sweat. "Come! Come!" cried the old woman, beating her hands on Marise's arm. "Perhaps it ain't too late. Perhaps you can do something."

Wilson, after a little pretended hesitation, accepted a chair and began to talk about old times. "I lay you ain't forgot one thing, Bert," he said at last. "What's that?" inquired the other. "That arf-quid I lent you," said Mr. Wilson. Mr. Carter, after the first shock of surprise, pretended to think, Mr.

You got to show me a deal with more in it, before you talk about a shift of pards. I'm running this shebang. There ain't no place for Lennon 'round Dead Hole. He best hit out back the way he come." Carmena's look told Lennon that he must make the next play. He thought quickly. If the girl was not mistaken, Slade would take Elsie away with him and chance the revenge of Cochise.

Tad fairly staggered up to them. "Act as if ye'd seen a ghost, young feller. What's the excitement about?" demanded the first of the two men. Tad explained as best he could between breaths, at which the men laughed more heartily than ever. "I want something to eat first of all. I'm half starved," he told them. "Sorry, younker, but we ain't got more'n enough for ourselves.

"But she ain't a-goin' ter find out," Jim had retorted. "She can't last long, 'course, an' I guess she won't change the will now unless some one tells her; an' I'll be plaguy careful there don't no one do that!" The "funeral" was a week old when Mrs. Darling came into the sitting- room one day, fully dressed. "I put on all my clo's," she said smilingly, in answer to Ella's shocked exclamation.

An' so, feelin' friendly all roun' that-a-way, we thought we'd leave Sonny to pick his church when he got ready, an' then they wouldn't be nothin' to undo or do over in case he went over to the 'Piscopals, which has the name of revisin' over any other church' performances though sence we've turned 'Piscopals we've found out that ain't so.

And if she should leave I don't know WHAT I'd do." "Leave! She ain't goin' to leave any more'n than the ship's cat's goin' to jump overboard. She's been here so long she wouldn't know how to leave if she wanted to." "That don't make any difference. The pitcher that goes to the well er er " She had evidently forgotten the rest of the proverb. Her husband helped her out.

Hatless, barefooted, in his flopping, too-big clothes, and with seventeen rosebuds clasped to his old, soiled shirt, Johnnie went slowly out, black shame in his soul. "I I couldn't say it!" he mourned. "I wanted t', but it jus' wouldn't come out! I s'pose it's 'cause I ain't a reg'lar scout yet."

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