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Updated: June 18, 2025
But Bog was unequal to the dissimulation involved in this plan, and abandoned it. Then he had a notion of following the young man, and seeing what became of him. But a sudden and very decided rising of fresh blood to Bog's cheeks and ears told him that he had played the part of spy long enough. So Bog determined as many grown-up people in graver dilemmas do to go home to supper.
It was a silly notion; but, in Bog's eyes, love imparted a not unpleasant expression to the grim lions' faces that looked down from the roof. But the green window curtains with gold borders were the most significant symbols of love, in his eyes. Bog felt that curtains of any other color would be wholly out of place in that house.
At the soft, calm, mystic, love-making, marrying twilight hour, the bridal party took their stand near the southern end of the great double parlor. The forty guests were grouped before them, an audience without seats. Pet was pale, and leaned for support on Bog's arm.
A single gesture from her, an impatient shrug of the shoulders, a turning away of her head, would have been all the hint that Bog needed to fly to her relief, and make up for his lost opportunity by knocking his dandy rival into the gutter. But not even Bog's sharp eyes could detect any impudent familiarity in the young man's conduct, or any desire on the part of Pet to get rid of him.
But now Bog's attention was diverted from Mr. Minford, and his heart was made to beat more rapidly by a new sight. While he had kept both eyes closely fixed upon the inventor, he had looked with an oblique, or reflected vision, into the other window of the room. This window was uncurtained, and Bog could distinctly see the chairs, bureau, and other articles of furniture.
Upon this fruitful theme, Bog's aunt could and would have discoursed for hours longer, but for the appearance of Bog, when she sought a new relief from her agonies by abusing that poor fellow, charging him with neglect and ingratitude, finding fault with the food which he brought home for her from market, and asking him when he was going to buy that soft armchair he had promised her so long.
Come along!" Tom started running as if in a great state of excitement, and Dick followed involuntarily, while after a momentary hesitation the constable also began to run. "I say, don't go that way," said Dick, as his companion struck off to the left. "Bog's soft there." "I know: come along! Keep on the tufts."
Nobody can understand the motives of Bog's conduct, except those who have done the same thing in their youthful days. Reaching the grocery store, he sheltered himself behind the friendly post, and commenced looking up and down the street, and across the way, and into the sky, always winding up his mysterious observations by a single glance at Miss Pillbody's front door.
He took a hasty inventory of Bog's old clothes, and then said, "Clare out, now!" He commenced to close the window. "I was told to give you a half dollar," said Bog, bethinking himself of a powerful expedient, "if you would find out whether Mr. Van Quintem was here, and hand him a letter." The negro's eyes dilated, and his thick lips wreathed into a grin. "Mr.
"Nevertheless," he insisted, "we're going to break camp in the morning. This infernal bog's got on my nerves. There are more creepy, oozy things in that cypress swamp over there than a man can afford to meet in the dark. To the devil with your wild turkeys, Nick! Quail and duck are good enough for me." The camp wagons drove back to Palm Beach in the morning.
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