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Updated: July 9, 2025
In itself it would have died out among later and more important issues if it had not been used as a torch to fire American public opinion at a time when the Congress was particularly anxious to make the Thirteen Colonies as anti-British as possible. Most of Forster's men were Indians. He had reminded Butterfield how dangerous an increasing number of Indians might become.
There was a mark on it. That werry sovereign was changed by Mr. Catchpole at Butterfield's that night, and 'ere it is. I 'ad to go in there, as I wanted a sovereign for a lot of silver, and he giv it to me." "Can Butterfield swear that Catchpole gave it him?" said Mrs. Furze, quite calmly. "Of course he can, marm; that's jist wot I asked him." "That will do, Jim; you can go," said Mrs. Furze.
Butterfield, save that she possessed nineteen coffin plates, and brought her hens to Edgewood every summer for their health; but she had heard Elder Weeks make a moving discourse out of less than that. To be sure, he needed priming, but she was equal to that. There was Ivory Brown's funeral: how would that have gone on if it hadn't been for her?
"Why did you steal it?" asked Ozma, gently. "Because no one loved me, or cared for me," said the shaggy man, "and I wanted to be loved a great deal. It was owned by a girl in Butterfield who was loved too much, so that the young men quarreled over her, which made her unhappy.
O waiting heart of God! how soon would Thy kingdom come if we all did our allotted tasks, humble or splendid, in this consecrated fashion! "Therein I hear the Parcae reel The threads of man at their humming wheel, The threads of life and power and pain, So sweet and mournful falls the strain." EMERSON'S Harp. Old Mrs. Butterfield had had her third stroke of paralysis, and died of a Sunday night.
A door opened down-stairs, and there was a noisy burst of laughter; then it closed, and the hot room was still. "Emily Butterfield will stand my friend," she said, her lips tightening. Then, gently: "We won't get married; Nathaniel. You will just come and visit me until until the machine is finished." "You will let me come?" he said, with a gasp; "you will let me finish my invention?"
Mr Butterfield positively refused to obtain an appointment for me without the consent of Aunt Deb and that of my father, and I was confident such would not be given. Would the captain take me without further introduction, if I should offer myself? I had sense enough to know that that was very unlikely.
"Did you enchant me when you asked the way to Butterfield?" The shaggy man shook his head. "Who ever heard of a shaggy fairy?" he replied. "No, Dorothy, my dear; I'm not to blame for this journey in any way, I assure you. There's been something strange about me ever since I owned the Love Magnet; but I don't know what it is any more than you do. I didn't try to get you away from home, at all.
Butterfield, who sits opposite him at the tea-table, is something of a hypocrite, and asks him all sorts of puzzling questions. The fact is, it is vinegar-cruet against sugar-bowl in perpetual controversy. I do not blame Givemfits as much as many do. His digestion is poor. The chills and fever enlarged his spleen. He has frequent attacks of neuralgia. Once a week he has the sick headache.
Besides, we don't take many sovereigns here we ain't like people in the High Street." "Mr. Butterfield, it's jist this: we've 'ad overwork at the guvnor's, and I'm a-goin' to put a sovereign by safe come next Whitsuntide, when I'm a-goin' to enjoy myself. I don't get much enjoyment, Mr. Butterfield, but I mean to 'ave it then." "All right, Mr. Jim. I've only two sovereigns, and there they are.
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