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Updated: May 25, 2025
Quoth the youth, simpering, "Why, sir, I did as you did the other day, when we visited the old farmer I drew an inference." "You drew an inference, did you? And how did you draw the inference that the man had eaten a horse?" "Why, very readily, sir; for as I entered the house I saw a saddle hanging on the wall." Professor Crane's Italian Popular Tales, p. 302.
When the two armies joined battle, the cranes would rush forward, flapping their wings and stretching out their necks, and would perhaps snatch up some of the Pygmies crosswise in their beaks. Whenever this happened, it was truly an awful spectacle to see those little men of might kicking and sprawling in the air, and at last disappearing down the crane's long, crooked throat, swallowed up alive.
"It took a bar'l of money," he continued, full of his own logical deductions, "an' I'll bet Porter cleaned up twenty thousand. He's a pretty slick cove, is old 'Honest John, if you ask me." The girl at Crane's side cackled a laugh. "He's funny, isn't he?" she said, nodding her big plumed hat in the direction of the man-group. "He's a talkative fool!" muttered the Banker, shortly.
Crane's servant, Bridgett Greggs, on the box beside the coachman. Alban had been to the agent employed by Mrs. Crane in the letting of her houses, but had not there gained any information. The Colonel believed that Mrs. Crane had succeeded in removing Jasper from London had, perhaps, accompanied him abroad.
This accounts for the wish said to have been expressed once by a great glutton, "that his throat had been formed longer than a crane's neck," implying that his pleasure was derived from the Touch.
"I think I do," replied Stephen, quietly. The Judge suppressed something. "What did you do with this person?" he demanded "I took her to Miss Crane's boarding-house," said Stephen. It was the Colonel's turn to explode. The guffaw which came from hire drowned every other sound. "Good God!" said the Judge, helplessly.
Faust would be the man for this commission. Immediately upon his arrival in New York, Crane telephoned for Faust, asking him to bring his betting sheet for the second last day of the Brooklyn Meet. When Faust arrived at Crane's quarters the latter said, "I want to trace a thousand-dollar note, number B 67,483. I think it was betted on the Brooklyn Derby, probably on my horse."
"But a woman needs a man to protect and work for her," insinuated Crane. "I don't need any one to protect me," said the widow; "and, as for support, I've got a matter of five thousand dollars laid by, and a good claim that'll pay for the workin'. I don't think I shall need to go to the poor-house yet awhile." Bill Crane's eyes sparkled. The widow Brown seemed wonderfully attractive in his eyes.
Crane's lanky person was draped, with its customary effect of carelessness, on one end of the lounge seat. He looked up, nodded shortly but cheerfully to Lanyard, then resumed a somewhat quizzical contemplation of the half-smoked cigar which etiquette obliged him to neglect in the presence of a lady. "This is the gentleman?" Captain Osborne queried heavily of the girl.
Miss Crane's boarding-house is not an interesting place, and the tempest in that teapot is better imagined than described. Out of consideration for Mr. Stephen Brice, we shall skip likewise a most affecting scene at Mr. Canter's second-hand furniture store. That afternoon Stephen came again to the dirty flight of steps which led to Judge Whipple's office.
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