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Updated: May 21, 2025
He and Danny went at each other with their fists clenched, a crowd of other boys looking on, and urging one or the other to do their best, for both Danny and Bert had friends, though Bert was the best liked. Danny struck Bert several times, and Bert hit back, once hitting Danny in the eye. Bert's lip was cut, and when the fight was over both boys did not look very nice.
His father, who was twice wounded, four times taken prisoner, and fought in thirty-two battles of the civil war, now old and feeble, survives him, and it was indeed pathetic to see his grief. Bert's mother, who is a Cherokee, was raised in my grandfather's family. The words of commendation which you wrote upon Bert's discharge are the greatest comfort to his friends.
Carford, who nodded in answer. "Yes," said the aged man, "that was the way of it. Bert did lend that other boy Jimmie he called him his knife. I saw the two boys separate and Jimmie carried off Bert's knife. But that's all I do know. The snowball business I have nothing to do with." "No, I suppose not," said the principal slowly. "I am sorry now that I said what I did, Bert.
"Where did they get the money?" asked Fred, his brow darkening. "I don't know," was Bert's rejoinder. "But they must be able to raise money all right, for Driggs has the canoe down at his yard, and he has promised it to them in a few days." This news came like a slap in the face to the lawyer's son.
You'll sleep in Bert's room to-night, and Bert will come up-stairs with me. Get Billy to bed as soon as you can after dinner, and then come back down to us. We've got to plan what's got to be done. Sh-h!" And he dragged his sister downstairs. In the dining-room there was a slight commotion. Billy stood at her chair with Spunk in her arms. Before her Pete was standing, dumbly staring into her eyes.
Nancy's Uncle Thomas, a quiet, gentle old Southerner who wore tan linen suits when he came to New York, which was not often, and Bert's mother, a tiny Boston woman who had lived in a diminutive Brookline apartment since her three sons had struck out into the world for themselves, respectively assured the young persons that they were taking a grave chance.
"Yes, and gather the eggs," put in Flossie, who had gathered eggs many times during the summer just past, while on a visit to their Uncle Daniel Bobbsey's farm at Meadow Brook. All of the Bobbsey children thought Meadow Brook the finest country place in all the world. Bert's wish for snow was soon gratified.
"How much have you got there?" asked Ben, looking over the load. "About a barrel, I guess," answered John "Could you run them through for us this morning?" "Certainly, certainly!" replied the others. "Just haul them on, and we'll set to work as quick as we did that morning at Harper's Ferry. Who is this lad?" he asked, indicating Bert. "My cousin from the city," said Harry, "Bert's his name."
One hand, between the pickets, seemed waving at her, and almost he seemed to wink at her jocosely, though she knew it to be the contortion of deadly pain. Possibly a second, or, at most, two seconds, she gazed at this, when she was aroused by Bert's voice.
Bert's side went reluctantly into the library, and the game began by sending Philip and Katharine into the hall to choose what the others should guess. In spite of the fact that what she most wanted had come to pass Ruth still felt uncomfortable, indeed almost unhappy. To be sure Arthur had come down, but would he ever forgive what she had said to him?
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