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If things get worse and I've got something to go on and we need you, I'm going to telegraph just as I said I would; because, Jack, though you're worth a lot of millions, someway we feel you're one of us. "Very truly yours for Little Rivers, "P.S. Belvy said to put in P.S. because P.S.'s are always the most important part of a letter. She wants to know if you won't write another story."
She might wish him luck in the wars, but he knew her too well to have any illusions that this meant the giving of the great thing she had to give, unless in the full spontaneity of spirit. This afternoon, with the flood of returning strength, the question suddenly became commanding in a fresh-born suspense. As he walked back to the house he met Belvy Smith and some of the children.
He was in one of those moods of abstraction that ever made his fellow-ranchers feel that he would not be with them permanently. Indeed, he had whole days when his smile had a sad turn; when, though he spoke pleasantly, the inspiration of talk was not in him and when Belvy Smith could not rouse any action in the cat with two black stripes down its back.
This may sound an interesting way to spend a winter's day, but after twenty minutes of it you would cry "enough." When we reached Belvy Bay the ice around the shore was broken into great pans, but in the middle it looked good. To go round is an endless task, so we risked crossing.
"And one more about the giant with the little voice and the dwarf with the big voice and the cat with the stripes down her back!" cried Belvy Smith, spokeswoman for the children. "Are they just going on forever having adventures and us never knowing about them?" "No. I have been holding back the last story," Jack said.
Whenever they have an inclination to quarrel she jumps between them and wiggles the yellow ear at the giant and the green ear at the dwarf, which fusses them both so that they promise to be good and rush off to get her a saucer of milk." "A green ear and a yellow ear! What a funny looking cat she must be!" exclaimed Belvy. "So she says to herself between purrs," concluded Jack.
Precipitately she hastened through it, as if with her last display of strength after the exhaustion of that walk. When he returned to the house, Jack found a letter that had come in the late mail from Jim Galway: "First off, that story you sent for Belvy," Jim wrote. "We've heard it read and reread, and the more it's worn with reading the fresher it gets in our minds.
Galway's jam in the ruins the same hifalutin compliment being your own when you were nursing your wound, as you will remember. "Here's wishing you luck from the whole town, way out here in nowhere. "As ever yours, "James R. Galway. "P.S. Belvy Smith wants to know if you won't write just one story. I told her you were too busy for such nonsense now. But she refuses to believe it.
"Oh, come in and hear it, Miss Ewold! It's the best one yet!" cried Belvedere Smith. "And and " "And and " began the chorus. Mary went to the hedge. She dropped the glass of jelly on the thick carpet of the privet. "I have just brought my gift. I'll leave it here. Belvy will bring it when the story is over. I am glad you are recovering so rapidly." "And and " insisted the chorus.
She says being busy doesn't matter to you. She says the stories just pop out. So I transmit her request. "P.D. waiting!" breathed Jack. "No changing Firio! He is like the pass. I wonder how Wrath of God and Jag Ear are!" He wrote a story for Belvy.
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