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Updated: May 5, 2025
Following Henrietta Cooney's look, Carlisle's eyes fell, sure enough, upon the tall figure of Dr. Vivian crossing the humming side-street straight toward them. Her glance caught him in the act of removing his derby, bowing in response to the cheeky salute of Hen.... "Ah, he's using a cane," added Hen, below her breath. "That means his foot is bad...."
It is quite another to learn to live day by day without it.... Why, indeed, should she not yield obedience to poor mamma at the least greet Canning's return with some mark of forgiveness, a tiny olive-branch?... Henrietta Cooney's voice spoke, singularly apropos: "You don't seem to be the only one who's been bored lately, Cally that ought to comfort you! Chas and I saw Mr.
Cooney's gentle voice could be heard calling, "Supper, supper," and Hen, entering with a large dinner-bell, conceived the whimsey of ringing it loudly in everybody's ear. Presently, after much noise and confusion, they were seated at the antique mahogany, with the dent near one edge where a Yankee cavalryman had rested his spurred foot too carelessly once upon a time.
Orcutt, perhaps, whose office was across the hall a tall, lean, spectacled man of fifty who looked like a schoolmaster. "Orcutt, what's the matter with the opener in Cooney's room?" "Why, the blower's out of order." "Well, whose fault is it?".... He knew every watchman and foreman in the mill, and many of the second hands.
Orcutt, perhaps, whose office was across the hall a tall, lean, spectacled man of fifty who looked like a schoolmaster. "Orcutt, what's the matter with the opener in Cooney's room?" "Why, the blower's out of order." "Well, whose fault is it?".... He knew every watchman and foreman in the mill, and many of the second hands.
Both, we should observe, appeared to be exceedingly blank and solemn; Cooney's hard face, as he cast his eye about him, would have made one imagine that he had just buried the last of his family, and Murray looked as if he had a son about to be hanged. The whole cause of this was simply that a finer season, nor one giving ampler promise of abundance, had not come within the memory of man.
What more useful than assisting to shield her father from undeserved abuse?... "It's only me, Cally," said Henrietta Cooney's voice, "or I, as they've got it in the grammars. I just called up to tell you not to forget the meeting to-morrow." "What meeting, Hen?" "I see I did well to call," came over the wire, on the wings of the Cooney laugh.
Orcutt, perhaps, whose office was across the hall a tall, lean, spectacled man of fifty who looked like a schoolmaster. "Orcutt, what's the matter with the opener in Cooney's room?" "Why, the blower's out of order." "Well, whose fault is it?".... He knew every watchman and foreman in the mill, and many of the second hands.
He gave her a look, and, turning, swung wide the door for the chaperon. Supper with the Cooneys: Poor Relations, but you must be Nice to them; of Hen Cooney's friend V.V., as she irritatingly calls him; also relating how Cally is asked for her Forgiveness, and can't seem to think what to say.
I soon drifted over to the freshman field and I want to admit here what caused me to do so. It was nothing more nor less than the size of Jim Cooney's legs. Jim was a classmate of mine whom I first saw on the football field when he and another tackle candidate were engaged in that delicate pastime known to linemen as breaking through.
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