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Updated: June 15, 2025


Butterwick assumed the responsibility for the management of the horse; and as she knew as much about taking care of horses as she did about conducting the processes of the sidereal system, the result was that Mr. Butterwick's horse was the unconscious parent of infinite disaster. When Butterwick returned and had kissed his wife and talked over his journey, the following conversation ensued. Mrs.

They waited half an hour; and as the sap didn't come, Butterwick concluded that the hole was not deep enough, so he began boring again, but he bored too far, for the auger went clear through the tree and penetrated the back of his wife's uncle, who was leaning up against the trunk trying to light his pipe. He jumped nearly forty feet, and they had to mend him up with court-plaster.

But Butterwick wrote to say that he couldn't come, and the dog, after eating everything in the cellar and barking all through every night, finally bolted up stairs into the kitchen on the 2d of July, and established himself in the back yard. After that we used the front door exclusively while we were waiting for Butterwick to come up.

Butterwick subsequently bought another horse from a friend of his in the city, but the animal developed eccentricities of such a remarkable character that he became unpopular. Butterwick, in explaining the subject to me, said, "I was surprised to find, when I drove him out for the first time, that he had an irresistible propensity to back.

He procured a small charge; and pushing it pretty well in with a stick, he "tamped" the end of the spout with clay and lighted the slow-match. Two minutes later there was an explosion, and the tamping-clay flew out and struck Butterwick with some violence in the ribs, curling him all up on the grass by the pump. When he recovered his breath, he got up and said, "Hang your infernal cat!

"She's fair, with a lot of fair hair and a very large hat with lots of flowers in it," said Pollyooly. "She would be!" broke in Mr. James with a groan. "And she gives herself airs because of that hat." "Just what I supposed," said Mr. James, fuming. "But she's engaged to Mr. Reginald Butterwick," said Pollyooly. "The deuce she is!" cried Mr. James; and a faint gleam of hope brightened his face.

Then he stopped and said to Pollyooly very fiercely: "Do you think I've got nothing else to do but wait here all the afternoon for your precious guv'ner to come home to tea?" "I don't know," said Pollyooly politely. "Well, I have plenty," said Mr. Reginald Butterwick savagely. Pollyooly said nothing. "And what's more, I'm going to do it!" said Mr.

"Or a snail," remarked Judge Twiddler. "N no; none of those." "Is it an elephant or a walrus?" asked Mrs. Dox. "I guess I'll have to give it up," said Mr. Lamb, wiping the perspiration from his brow. "Well, that's the sickest old story I ever encountered," remarked Butterwick to Potts. Then everybody smiled, and Mr.

Butterwick got out, however, into the stream, and as he emerged, spluttering and blowing, he struck against a stranger who was treading water. The stranger apologized, and said that Butterwick might not recognize him in his dilapidated condition as Martin Thompson, but while they were together, he would like to put in a word for that lawn-mower when the parson was done with it.

"It seemed to at first; but one day Patrick undertook to bleed him for the blind staggers, and he must have cut the horse in the wrong place, for the poor brute fell over on the accordion person and died, nearly killing the musician." "The horse is dead, then? Where is the bill?" "I'll read it to you: "Yes." Then Mr. Butterwick folded the bill up and went out into the back yard to think.

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