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Updated: September 9, 2025
"Blackie Griffith, these people do not even realize that there is anything unusual about this." "Sure not; that's the beauty of it. They don't need to make no artificial atmosphere for this place; it just grows wild, like dandelions.
But it was not necessary that I live in Milwaukee a year or so in order to understand its peculiarities, for I had a personal conductor and efficient guide in the new friend that had come into my life with the first day of my work on the Post. Surely no woman ever had a stronger friend than little "Blackie" Griffith, sporting editor of the Milwaukee Post.
This started them swearing at us, calling us English Schweinhunds and everything else they could think of. We lay there trying to keep from laughing, but at last Blackie exploded; and gee! they did rave. Finally they found the second hole, but I held my hand over it so the stick didn't come through they could feel something soft, but had no idea what it was.
Accordingly, PROFESSOR BLACKIE, in his Legend of Prometheus; represents him as proclaiming, in the following language, his empire on the earth, in opposition to the powers above: "Jove rules above: Fate willed it so. 'Tis well; Prometheus rules below.
Baron Lucanus is an extremely good-looking man, whose popular nickname at Berlin, namely, "the emperor's Blackie Man," is in nowise due to any swarthiness of complexion, but to the fact that among the great dignitaries in attendance on the emperor, he is the only one in civilian attire, while moreover he is invariably selected by the sovereign to convey to any cabinet minister, whose resignation is required, the imperial intimation "that he has ceased to please."
Not one that had not the memory of some secret kindness stored away in his heart. It was Blackie who had furnished the money that had sent Deming's sick wife west. It had been Blackie who had rescued Schmidt time and again when drink got a strangle-hold. Blackie had always said: "Fire Schmidt! Not much! Why, Schmidt writes better stuff drunk than all the rest of the bunch sober."
"Yes," said Hap Smith, his thick, squat figure growing tense where he sat as though with a sudden nervous bracing within. "Yes." "And you expected me here? You will give me a free hand?" "Yes," cried Smith ringingly. "Damn 'em, yes. Go to it, Buck!" Thornton turned stern eyes upon Blackie. "I can shoot twelve holes through you before you get your hand out of your pocket," he said crisply.
But the light in his case was tempered and passive; in Kelland's it danced, and changed, and flashed vivaciously among the students, like a perpetual challenge to goodwill. I cannot say so much about Professor Blackie, for a good reason. Kelland's class I attended, once even gained there a certificate of merit, the only distinction of my University career.
The barriers were up all around they had been erected in the course of a short week. They penned him to his class, confined him to certain narrow roads from whence he might see all that was desirable but forbidden. He was so silent the next morning, when he joined the big squadron that was assembling on the flying field, that Blackie did not know he was there. "Where's Tam? Oh, here you are.
Grasping the bridle of the runaway, Elfreda tugged at it with all her might in her endeavor to stop the animal, shouting, "Whoa! Whoa!" In the meantime, Grace on Blackie was heading for the scene at top speed, seeking to head off the runaway. Others also were trying to stop the animal and rescue the fallen cowboy, but it was Elfreda's race, with Grace following her.
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