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Updated: May 22, 2025
It was here, too, that Angeline, the spirit of whose sweet face had been with him in his wanderings, used to sit at her flax-wheel, spinning thread that was famous in Fly Market. Could this be a sweet dream, a beautiful delusion, a spirit-spell that moves the soul with pictures of love and enchantment, and from which some stern reality would soon awake him and dispel the charm?
"Angie," replied Captain Cy solemnly, "don't tempt me; don't! If they keep on playin' that Copenhagen and you stand right alongside of me, there's no tellin' what 'll happen." Angeline declared that he was "turrible," but she faced the threatened danger nevertheless, and bravely remained where she was. Mr. Atkins went home early in the evening, taking Alicia with him.
Mother says it's just the same thing in India that it is in America." The school repeated part of the table, making very absurd mistakes intentionally. Susy walked the floor like a general. "Angeline, please look up some more palm-leaf fans, and some splinters of wood." Angeline was the soul of good nature, and left her baking to hunt in the meal-room for the fans.
To quote Josiah Dimick again: "Sortin' out the truth from the lies is like tryin' to find a quart of sardines in a schooner load of herrin'. And they dump in more herrin' every half hour." Angeline Phinney was having the time of her life. The perfect boarding house hummed like a fly trap. Keturah and Mrs.
The idol of the house was home again, and true happiness reigned under that little roof. "You ton't go away no more, mine Tite," he continued, patting him on the shoulder and pressing his hand. Angeline heard Tite's voice and came rushing into the room frantic with joy. "Thank God! thank God!" she exclaimed. "He has brought our boy safe back to us."
"I'll never take another bird into the window," continued Dotty; "it's almost as bad as a ghost." "You never saw a ghost, Dotty. Nobody ever did." "Yes, indeed; Angeline has seen 'em as thick as spatter! They come when you're asleep, and there don't anybody know it. I shouldn't dare open my eyes in the night. They're wrapped in a sheet, all white, and their eyes snap like fire.
And if needs be he could make reeds and shuttles for the loom, while Angeline always used harnesses of her own make. And so industrious was this good wife that you could rarely pass the house of a night without hearing the hum of the wheel or the clink of the loom.
"Yes," replied Susy, "they tell such horrid stories to their little children. The children don't dare go out after dark, for they suppose there are demons up in the high trees, just ready to dart down and whisk them off." "Angeline tells just such stories her own self," said Dotty. "Then she's a heathen," said Florence, who usually spoke the first thought that came into her head.
It was on this night, according to the legend, that "Old Angeline," as she is now called, became the messenger that saved the inhabitants from destruction. The legend has been doubted; and when we asked the short, flat-faced old woman, as she answered our knock, if she was the daughter of the chief who saved Seattle, she simply said, "Chief," grinned, and made a bow.
No man ever had such a mouth. It was as deep as a cave, and all ablaze. Somebody had gone and swallowed a stove; somebody had come to do do O, what had he come to do? "It's a yellow ghost!" thought Dotty. "I didn't know they had such a kind. Angeline never said so. But its eyes are just like her ghosts' eyes going to burn you up!" These thoughts darted through Dotty's mind like lightning-flashes.
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