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Updated: June 29, 2025
In twice as many other precincts the situation is precisely the same, except that Harpwood and Lockwin, the recognized rivals, have the polls. At three o'clock the wagons begin to unload, vote and reload. A place is made at the head of the line for these "passengers." The "passenger" sailors vote at all of Corkey's precincts. They start for the other wards.
The woman at last secures a handkerchief which looks the worse for Corkey's long, though reverent, custody. "Wash it, sissy, and show it up to Mrs. Lockwin. I reckon it will steer her back to the day when she felt pretty good toward me. Be careful of that Harpwood. He ain't no use. I know it. She give me that wipe her own self yes, she did! God bless her." The woman once more kisses the sick man.
"We sit there all the time. I want to tell you just how he did. He sit back, out straight, like this, his hands deep in his pockets, his legs crossed onto each other, his hat down, and his chin way down see?" Corkey is regaining his presence of mind. The widow attests the correctness of Corkey's illustration. "You bet your sweet life, nobody could get nothing out of him, then.
"I don't like to keep no saloon." "I shall sell as little liquor as possible," the druggist says, conceiving the drift of Corkey's ideas. "Pardner, you must have been a hard drinker yourself. How did your voice get so husky?" "It was so always." "It was so the first day I met you. Remember the dedication?" "Yes; do you remember the bank?" "Yep.
And his wife over there crying her eyes out with more money with more money well " Corkey's head vibrates, his tongue whirs, he sneezes. Children, romping on the sidewalk, troop to the door of the druggist to learn what has happened. Corkey looks at the prescription booth. He notes the blue copper water at each corner.
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