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Updated: June 12, 2025
And then she runs over and slips her arm under Uncle Cal's neck and hugs him tight. "'Why, last night, dad, we heard her say, 'I played it ever so much. Honest I have been playing it. And it's such a splendid instrument, you don't know how I love it. Last night I played "Bonnie Dundee" and the "Anvil Polka" and the "Blue Danube" and lots of pieces.
Weary explained that Cal was feeling pretty bum on account of that fall he had got, and, as Weary couldn't sleep, anyway, he had offered to stand in Cal's place. Pink scented mischief. This night the moon shone brightly at intervals, with patches of silvery clouds racing before the wind and chasing black splotches of shadows over the sleeping land.
He married a girl that come in here from the South with her mother. I guess that was after you got out of here. They tore down the two houses and built that big one. They say it's like them Southern houses, but I don't know. It seems awful plain up the front of it. Cal's all right, though. I guess mebbe he built the house kind of bare that way to please his wife and his mother-in-law.
"Dutch Cal's place. It's only a few rods back in." "I saw a light from there and that suggested to my muddled brain that I might get something to eat." "So you came over here." "Yes. But the fear came on me again and I didn't dare knock. I suppose I prowled." "Gardner thought he heard ghosts. But ghosts don't steal molasses pie." She looked at him solemnly.
Those made by the Seeburg Company were also called nickelodeons because they played when a coin was inserted into a slot. "That was Uncle Cal's style. But I never lost any patience with him, on account of his thinking so much of Marilla. And she thought just as much of him. He sent her to the academy over at Birdstail for two years when it took nearly every pound of wool to pay the expenses.
Cal's sure not much for you to bother with, if you only keep out of his way." "You mean for me to run?" asked Duane, in scorn. "I reckon I wouldn't put it that way. Just avoid him. Buck, I'm not afraid Cal would get you if you met down there in town. You've your father's eye an' his slick hand with a gun. What I'm most afraid of is that you'll kill Bain."
It was the one beginning, according to Cal's version: Twinkle, Twinkle little star, What in thunder are you at? There were thirteen verses, and it was not particularly adapted to a Christmas entertainment. The schoolma'am went on explaining. "What're them?" Slim, leaning awkwardly forward and blinking up at her, interrupted stolidly. Everyone took advantage of the break and breathed deeply.
"It is hard on Cal," agreed Cal's father. "Though perhaps just a trifle harder," ventured Wayne, "on the girl who did." "Well, what did she do it for?" he demanded. "Come now, Captain, you can't make out much of a case for her. Mrs. Leonard's word is just right trivial. She said she was tired of things. Tired tired tired of things, she put it. Tired of walking down the same street.
"Say" Pink's fists kneaded energetically Cal's suffering diaphragm. "are yuh all ba-a-d?" "Oh, Lord! No. I'm dead gentle. Lemme up." "D'yuh think that critter will quit the bunch ag'in to-night?" "He ain't liable to," Cal assured him meekly. "Say, who the devil are yuh anyhow?" "I'm Percival Cadwallader Perkins. Do yuh like that name?
The girl made no answer, but she flushed under the intensity of his gaze, and to herself she said, as she had said once before: "I wonder would he do sich a thing fer me as Cal's doin' fer his sister?" The scope and peril of that sacrifice seemed to stand between her and all other thoughts. Then Parish came back with a gourd dipper, and forced himself for a few moments into casual conversation.
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