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Updated: May 12, 2025
The Colonel having lately suggested that Mr. Hart, Jr., or Bip, for short being now six years of age, was too big for her to manage, had called forth an eloquent outburst, which concluded with the terse observation: "If I could handle his Pappy an' Mammy, an' his Gran'pappy an' Gran'mammy befoh him, an' all de Mays an' Harts borned dese las' hund'ed yeahs, how-cum I ain' able to handle him?"
Didn' I heah somefin 'bout gwine down whar de Willer-de-Wispies lives at?" "Oh, yes," Bip cried, his anger passing like a bird shadow. "But, Uncle Zack, you've got to ride a horse! I can't have Daniel learnin' laziness from that old mule!" "Laziness!" the old man exclaimed. Then, all at once, he seemed to be watching something in the trees.
Miss Liz had offered to do this, and so had Jane and Ann, but the old woman indignantly waved them aside. "What d' you-all know 'bout nussin'?" she had asked, with a fine degree of scorn. But the true reason was that Bip loved Mesmie, and this gave Mesmie a claim upon Aunt Timmie's love. Uncle Zack was sitting, shortly after noon a week later, on the door step of Bradford's cottage.
But as there are three sorts of punishment, so there are three several Furies, or female ministers of justice, and to every one of these belongs a peculiar office and degree of punishment. PLUTARCH: Morals, Vol. IV. p. 210. Ed. 1694. Ed. Bip. PRESCOTT: Conquest of Mexico, Vol. This is true; but the objection overlooks the distinction between the existence of an attribute and its exercise.
"Scramble up on yoh dumplin' an' come 'long! Li'l Mesmie," he looked down at the girl, "you stan' right dar an' squint yoh eyes good, an' you'll see de hottes' Kentucky Derby ever run!" Bip led his pony to the horseblock, and by much squirming managed to wriggle on; then trotted over to Uncle Zack. "We're ready," he cried, his face alight with excitement. "How much start'll you give me?" "Staht!
Bob now stepped out and introduced the first great feature: "Bip, the Bouncing Buster of Boozicks and the Fearless Firer of Fireworks, with the admirable assistance of that adaptable and adamant Timorous-are-ye-poor-mortal-worms, will twist the tail of the tawny lion and break the barbarous bandetta of benighted Britain!"
Bob acted as master of ceremonies, the Colonel and Brent were pledged to orations, while the three ladies and Mac constituted the vast throng of spellbound onlookers. Bip, having for the moment forgotten his fire crackers, was dancing with delighted anticipation. Zack was teeming with mirth abetted, no doubt, by a heel-tap or two from the Colonel's retiring goblet.
In the freshness of this June morning he was back again in the library, bent over the pages of a book, and the room seemed quieter for his intensity. Outside, on the shady porch, the Colonel showed indications of reading, but in reality his eyes had slyly turned to the lawn where Zack and Bip were in a heated argument over the respective merits of horseflesh.
All during the drive to Arden she had been shaking her head and murmuring her intention of burying them in the creek; a calamity which Bip was resisting with every argument in his power. They were too hotly engaged in this to notice the silently amused men, and wended their way to the stables, the voices becoming fainter but not losing their strident tones.
"Dar ain' no use talkin'," Uncle Zack stamped the ground. "I'se been waitin' on de May fam'ly fer up'ards of a hund'ed yeahs, an' dis am de fu'st time any of 'em done 'sult me!" There was a pause while Bip looked at him with wide, serious eyes, and the Colonel from his secluded vantage point silently chuckled. "I didn't mean to insult you, Uncle Zack," the little boy explained.
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