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Updated: May 29, 2025
Ethel said he sat and stared at me all the way up to Fifty-ninth, where he got off. He was an awfully nice-looking fellow; I'll tell you what he looked like: a young doctor. Don't you know those awfully CLEAN-looking men " Martie, now changing Teddy's little suit for dinner, let the stream run on unchecked. Mrs. Curley, who did not particularly fancy Mrs.
And, though she might never see him again for she would be turned on seventy next Thursday, she prayed for her dear boy nights, and dreamed of him constant. And, begging God to bless him and keep him from harm, she was his affectionate aunt, Winnie Curley.
He wheeled and was gone, overtaking the boys who were already starting for the gate, which little Curley held open until the last man should pass. Sudden stepped on the starter, the big car began to gurgle. The search was on.
The stocky, grizzle-haired man in the centre was a plain-clothes man from headquarters, named Barlow; at the lower end of the table Reddy Curley and Haines, his partner, faced each other, Curley drumming indifferently with his fingers on the table-top, Haines scowling and chewing his lower lip, a certain coarse brutality in both their faces that was neither pleasant nor inviting; but it was the white-haired old man, bent of form, standing at the head of the table, upon whom Jimmie Dale's eyes lingered.
"Saving your presence, sir." Curley Crothers made a gesture expressive of a world of compliment and praise, but he kept one eye steadily on the dog; he seemed to imply that but for the presence of the dog on board the commander might have forgotten his seamanship. "Well? What do you suggest?"
"Port you-ah hel-um, sah!" yelled the pilot in an ecstasy of fright. "Starboard a little," came the quiet command. Curley Crothers moved his wheel and the Puncher's bow yawed twenty feet, as if Providence had pushed her. "Gawd A'mighty!" murmured Joe Byng, gazing open-mouthed at fifty feet of jagged rock that grinned up suddenly three waves away.
Its tail was broken too and served it right for thrashing around like that in the brush. She had not known her dad was having it brought in, until she saw them coming with it. Little Curley had driven the team, and he had looked as though he was driving a hearse. She did not even know what her dad was going to do with it. He hadn't said a word to anybody, about anything.
These were small quarters after the airy bareness of the Curley home, and they were additionally reduced in effect by the peculiar taste their first occupant had shown in furnishing.
The children in the Park would drag home in the hot sunset light, tired, dirty, whining, and a breathless evening follow the burning day. Then Martie and Mrs. Curley and mild little Mr. Bull and bellicose Mr. Snow would perhaps sit on the steps until eleven o'clock, exchanging pleasantries with various neighbours, wilted like themselves in the furnace of the day.
Then Bud began suddenly to improvise, and his voice rose valiantly that his words might carry their meaning to the ears of Johnny Jewel, who had stalked back across the corral and was striving now to catch the horse he had let go, while his one champion, little Curley, shooed the animal into a corner for him. "It would be grand to kiss her hand, her snow-white hand, if I had the sand!"
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