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Charles Crayton shrugged his shoulders. "Tell you what," Tarwater continued. "There's work on the ranch for you till you can start business again." "I could manage your business for you " Charles began eagerly. "No, siree," Tarwater declared emphatically. "But there's always post-holes to dig, and cordwood to chop, and the climate's fine . . . "
The session's nearly over, and there's two Church Discipline Bills, and five Church Bills bishoprics and benefices, and Lord knows what still to get through. Lot of anxiety about 'em, apparently! As to a business view of politics, I expect the climate's against it.
The climate's not very cheerful, and the people seem suspicious about strangers." "The Scots are proverbially cautious," she answered carelessly, but Foster thought he saw a gleam of interest in her eyes. "I suppose somebody has been bothering you with questions?" "Yes; as I'm of a retiring character, it annoys me. Besides, I really think it's quite unjustified. Do I look dangerous?"
The climate's always in extremes like the people." "I'm sorry to find you don't like the States, Uncle Archie." The young man sat down beside his uncle. They were in the deck saloon of a steamer which had left Washington about an hour before for Mount Vernon.
"I'm goin' back home, though." Polly gazed at Buck in surprise. Here was a new view of the man; one she had never considered. It was strange to hear this outlaw and bad man talk of a home. The repetition of the word "home" by Polly, led him to continue: "Yep. Up to the Strip, where I was borned at. This yere climate's a leetle too dry to suit me.
Mose was angry on the instant and sullenly said: "None of your business." After threatening to blow his liver into bits they rode on and repeated their question to Pratt, who significantly replied: "I'm a-goin' to the mouth o' the Cannon Ball ef I don't miss it. Any objection?" "You bet we have, you rowdy baggage puller. You better keep out o' here; the climate's purty severe."
Give my love to all. And don't worry. It'll all come right in the end. This beastly climate's to blame. Later, It's night now. I was interrupted. I'll write a few more lines. Hope you can read them. It's late and the wind is moaning outside. It's so cold and dismal. The fellow in the bed next to me is out of his head. Poor devil! He broke his knee, and they put off the operation too busy!
Yass, beautiful, but you should 'a' seen her three years ago. No use talkin', seh I wouldn't say so to a Yankee, but ow climate's hard on beauty. Teach in the acad'? Oh! no, seh, she jus' sings with 'em. Magnificent voice. Some Yankees here last week allowed they'd ruther hear her than Adelina Patti in some sawngs.
In that tropical country where women are already old at thirty she had learned the secret of resisting the climate's destructive influences, and her features, a little sharpened but still beautiful, retained the haughty outline of the Portuguese type, in which nobility of face unites so naturally with dignity of mind.
Bud laughed and reached for the bacon. "We ain't been followed up with stampedes so far," he pointed out. "Burro Lode never caused a ripple in the Bend, you recollect. And I'll tell a sinful world it looked awful good, too." "Yeah. Well, Arizona's hard to excite. They've had so dang much strenuosity all their lives, and then the climate's against violent effort, either mental or physical.
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