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"Yes, sir; especially in the trial of a jury case; but he's had more experience that I have; he's now assistant city attorney of Louisville." "Where do you get that idea?" "Judge Dobson, that is what this court says in the case of Ewald Iron Company against The Commonwealth, 140 Ky. 692: 'Clayton B. Blakey and Amicus Curiae, attorneys for the City of Louisville." "What law books have you read?"
The queer isolated cone of Blakey Topping and the summit of Gallows Dyke, close to Saltersgate, appear above the distant ridges. The route of the great Roman road from the South to Dunsley Bay can also be seen from these heights.
There stood the grimy wagon shop from which a hammer was ringing cheerily, like the chirp of a cricket, just as aforetime. Orrin Blakey stood at the door of his lumber yard surveying me with curious eyes but I passed him in silence. I wished to spend an hour or two in going about in guise of a stranger.
"I said to her, 'I've been having a wedding present. 'Well, she said, 'you've come as near having no use for a wedding present as anybody I know. Was having a wedding present what made you so gloomy at supper? Who gave it to you, anyway? 'Old Blakey. 'A painting? 'Yes a sketch. 'What of? This was where I qualified.
In the New York edition of Walton and Cotton is a list of books on Angling, which Blakey enlarges. His list contains four hundred and fifty titles. American Angler's Guide, 1849. Storer, D. H., Fishes of Massachusetts. Storer, D. H., Fishes of N. America. Richard Penn, Maxims and Hints for an Angler, and Miseries of Fishing, 1839. James Wilson, The Rod and the Gun, 1840.
Turner, who seized him to upbraid him for not stopping to speak to her, and to tell him she had saved three dances expressly for him, and she had such a host of things she wanted to tell him, and she had been hearing such a host of things about him, etc., etc., he found Blake and caught him by the sleeve. "No dodging now, Blakey. Who bought Dandy? Who gave him to me?" "Well dang it! I did.
You see, it's the little villa her mother had taken that winter on the Viale Petrarca, just outside of Florence. It was the first place I met her, but not the last." "Don't be obvious," Minver ordered. His brother did not mind him. "I thought it was mighty nice of Blakey.
"At the end she said we must advertise for the picture. I said it would kill Blakey if he saw it; and she said: No matter, let it kill him; it would show him that we valued his gift, and were moving heaven and earth to find it; and, at any rate, it would kill me if I kept myself in suspense.
"It was before we were married, but not much before, and the picture was a sort of wedding present for my wife, though Blakey made a show of giving it to me. Said he had painted it for me, because he had a prophetic soul, and felt in his bones that I was going to want a picture of the place where I first met her.
"O Gog's blakey!" said Barny, "what'll I do now, at all at all?" The captain ordered Barny on deck, as he wished to have some conversation with him on what he, very naturally, considered a most extraordinary adventure. Heaven help the captain! he knew little of Irishmen, or he would not have been so astonished. Barny made his appearance.
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