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Updated: June 15, 2025
Butterwick," said Hoops, "I've got some bad news to break to you, but I hope you'll stand it like a man. These afflictions come to all of us in this life, sir. They are meant for our good. But really, sir, those are not Borneo cabbages. Cabbages!
Butterwick thought that life might open out to him a brighter and more beautiful vista in some other capacity. Subsequently, Mr. Butterwick concluded to attend to his garden himself, and early in the spring he received from the Congressman of our district a choice lot of assorted seeds brought from California by the Agricultural Department.
Bunnel, in the pew in front; and when the Bunnels all had it, they sent it on to the people next to them, and so before the doctor reached "thirdly" the whole congregation knew that he wanted to borrow Butterwick's lawn-mower on Monday morning early. A day or two later, while Butterwick was crossing the creek upon a train of cars, the train ran off the track and rolled his car into the water.
As the remains were put into their last resting-place he cried as if his heart would break, and his friends began to get uneasy about his nervous system. Presently he took his handkerchief from his eyes for a moment to rub his nose, and as he did so he saw Butterwick looking at him. A thought seemed to strike Smith.
Butterwick thought it was extraordinary, and he asked Brown if he was engaged in gunning for domestic animals in order to settle a bet. But Brown only coughed a couple of times, closed one eye sagaciously and began to dig a fresh grave under the arbor.
When Butterwick bought his present place, the former owner offered, as one of the inducements to purchase, the fact that there was a superb sugar-maple tree in the garden. It was a noble tree, and Butterwick made up his mind that he would tap it some day and manufacture some sugar. However, he never did so until last year. Then he concluded to draw the sap and to have "a sugar-boiling." Mr.
Reginald Butterwick; and there was a faint note of anxiety in his tone. "It's Mr. Vance's sock," said Pollyooly; and with gentle pride she held it up in a fashion to display its full proportions. Mr. Reginald Butterwick took two or three nervous steps to the right, looking askance at the sock as he moved. It was not really as large as a sack. "Big man, your guv'ner?
Potts's got pokeberry and silver maple growin' all over his place, too, and he's as mad as Well, you just ought to hear him snortin' around town. He'll kill somebody, I'm afeard." Mr. Butterwick settled the difficulty with Coffin and Potts somehow, but he made up his mind to vote for another man for Congress at the next election. Mr.
"Oh, he'd do it quite easily," said Pollyooly confidently. Mr. Reginald Butterwick stared at her and then at the sock. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again. Then he whistled a short, defiant whistle which went out of tune toward the end. Then he walked the length of the studio and back.
Coffin's office. I went over after him, while the man with the dog went in the opposite direction. Butterwick was in the back office; and as the front room was empty, I sat down in a chair until he got through with Coffin and came out. In a few minutes there was a rap at the door. I said, "Come in!" The door slowly opened, and a dog crept in. Then the man appeared. He didn't seem to know me.
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