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"Besides, she may have gone to the Martels'." "I don't think so," said Miss Isobel, twisting her handkerchief in her slender fingers; "because, you see, she she took her suit-case." For the first time, Quin's face reflected the anxiety of Miss Isobel's. When Hannah returned she reported that no one answered the telephone at the Randolph Bartletts'.
"I haven't written to the Bartletts since last November." The Bartletts were the parents of the little boy who was traced by the aid of her timely snapshot. She opened Mrs. Bartlett's letter and glanced over it to put herself in the mood for answering it. She laughed sardonically as she read. Mrs.
His eye wandered toward the black mass of the Howard house. It was as dark as his thoughts. He turned his head slowly around, and, like a bright star of hope, there glimmered up the road a flickering light from the Bartletts' parlor window. Although time had stopped as far as he was concerned, he was convinced it could not be very late, or the Bartletts would have gone to bed.
For there was no doubt that it was bulging and ought to have been seen to, aeons ago. And it was some days since the landlord's attention had been called, and Bartletts the builders had waked all the dwellers in Sapps Court who still slept at six o'clock, by taking out a half a brick or two to make a bearing for as many putlogs pronounced pudlocks as were needed for a little bit of scaffold.
I have grown as good Bartletts here as could be obtained anywhere, and the trees have proved to be good bearers and doers. This fruit does best on deep soils of a medium to strong loamy nature, and of good quality, though it does well in much freer soils, but does not make as good a growth or bear as heavily.
Bartlett's store was on a street zoned only for houses, yet because the store had been there before the zoning law was passed it had been allowed to remain. The present proprietor was the third generation of Bartletts who had sold groceries there. He was a stout, pink-faced man, quite bald in front. Jerry said that Mr. Bartlett's forehead went way to the back of his head.
Quin refrained from mentioning the fact that he had also met Mr. Ranny. It was a point to his credit, for the story would have been received with hilarity, and he particularly enjoyed making Rose laugh. The entrance of Mr. Martel put an end to the discussion of the Bartletts. Bitter as was his animosity toward the old lady, he would permit no disrespect to be shown her or hers in his presence.
It was such a week that tumbled unexpectedly out of Quin's calendar about the first of June, and lived itself in terms of sunshine and roses, of moonshine and melody, seven halcyon days between the time that Eleanor returned from school and the Bartletts went away for the summer.
California practice is, then, to plant Bartletts solidly without reference to preparation for pollination. Taking the matter the other way around, the Bartlett will do for pollination of the Comice probably, if that should be necessary. Lye-Peeling Peaches. Please give the formula for peeling peaches by dipping them in caustic soda or lye.
They were, and then in the door, oh-ing and ah-ing over this and that. And complimenting Barboy on the martinis. Then the Wilsons came and the Bartletts and that was it. "Three couples will be right," Ben had analyzed it. "Enough so we can let them get together and build up each others' curiosity but not too many for easy control.
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