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Updated: June 25, 2025
We can't have no more I mean no unsuitable man to fill such an important place as that. The welfare of our posterity," he added, and we all recognized the quotation, "depends upon the choice that's to be made." A choice was made, however, on the very next day but one after this declaration. A candidate announced himself. Asaph and Bailey hurried to the Cy Whittaker place with the news.
If he had seen Captain Cy, at two o'clock the next morning, sitting by Bos'n's bedside and gazing hopelessly at the child, he would have realized that, if his former predictions were wiped off the slate and he could be judged by the one concerning the captain's sleepless night, he might thereafter pose as a true prophet.
Most of his hearers were silent now, on tiptoe of expectation. Dimick looked searchingly at Captain Cy. Then he sprang to his feet. "Order!" he shouted. "What's all this got to do with nominatin' for school committee? Ain't he out of order, Alvin?" The moderator hesitated. His habitual indecision was now complicated by the fact that he was as curious as the majority of those before him.
Then the good-byes began, the flurry of wrong baskets, pails and bundles in wrong places; the sorting out of small folk too sleepy to know or care what became of them; the maternal cluckings, and paternal shouts for Kitty, Cy, Ben, Bill, or Mary Ann; the piling into vehicles with much ramping of indignant horses unused to such late hours; the last farewells, the roll of wheels, as one by one the happy loads departed, and peace fell upon the household for another year.
Of Bos'n he said nothing. At last Everdean asked what had brought him to Washington. "Well," said Captain Cy, "I'll tell you. I'm like the feller in court without a lawyer; he said he couldn't tell whether he was guilty or not 'count of havin' no professional advice. That's what I've come to you for, Ed professional advice." He told the harbor appropriation story.
"Well, Cy, I've won the antlers, and I've got my ripping story for the Manchester fellows. I don't care how soon we turn home now." "You don't, don't ye?" said the guide. "Well, I should s'pose you'd want to trail up that moose to-morrow, and see what has become of him." "Of course I do! I forgot that."
Bangs had never been farther from his native village than Boston. Captain Cy had been almost everywhere and seen almost everything. He could spin yarns that beat the serial stories in the patent inside of the Bayport Breeze all hollow.
An-ina think her mak big talk with Marcel. Her say much. No. Her not mak big talk. Marcel him kill Cy. Then all thing here no good. Oh, yes. So An-ina say nothing. So him Cy an' Marcel go long trail. Marcel him not think nothin'. Him dream dream. All time dream. Cy think bad all time. "So." An-ina shrugged expressively. "Much long time. No Cy. No Marcel. Then Indian man mak big talk.
"Cy Ryder gives us the job o' taking the schooner down to a certain point on the Gortamalar coast and there delivering to the agent o' the gazabo three thousand stand o' forty-eight Winchesters. "When we gits this far into the game Ryder ups and says: "'Boys, here's where I cashes right in. You sets right to me for the schooner and the cargo.
It was not a lengthy process and, when it was completed, he returned to find his visitor already divested of the coat and standing before the stove. "I guess perhaps you'll have to help undo me behind," observed the young lady. "This is my best dress and I can't reach the buttons in the middle of the back." Captain Cy scratched his head.
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