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Updated: May 29, 2025
"You sit there from morning till night and won't say anything; and now, when there's only one block out, you won't give the word to buy it." "N-never told you to buy anything, did I Ed?" "No," answered Mr. Batch, "you haven't. I don't know what the devil's got into you." "D-done all the payin' without consultin' me, hain't you, Ed?" "Yes; I have. What are you driving at?"
"D-done it if I hadn't b'en here, wouldn't you?" "Yes, and more too," said Mr. Batch. "W-wouldn't make much difference to you if I wasn't here would it?" "Great Scott, Jethro, what do you mean?" cried the railroad president, in genuine alarm; "you're not going to pull out, are you?" "W-wouldn't make much odds if I did would it, Ed?" "The devil it wouldn't!" exclaimed Mr. Balch.
"Wouldn't give a Red Brook Seedling for Alvy," ejaculated the nasal Mr. Price. "D-don't like Red Brook Seedlings, Sam? D-don't like 'em?" said Jethro. He had parted his blue coat tails and seated himself on the stoop, his long legs hanging over it. "Never seed a man who had a good word to say for 'em," said Mr. Price, with less conviction. "Done well on mine," said Jethro, "d-done well.
She stole to him and flung her arms about his neck, and with a cry he seized her and held her against him for I know not how long. Had it been possible to have held her there always, he would never have let her go. At last he looked down into her tear-wet face, into her eyes that were shining with tears. "D-done wrong, Cynthy."
"D-done it if I hadn't b'en here, wouldn't you?" "Yes, and more too," said Mr. Batch. "W-wouldn't make much difference to you if I wasn't here would it?" "Great Scott, Jethro, what do you mean?" cried the railroad president, in genuine alarm; "you're not going to pull out, are you?" "W-wouldn't make much odds if I did would it, Ed?" "The devil it wouldn't!" exclaimed Mr. Balch.
She stole to him and flung her arms about his neck, and with a cry he seized her and held her against him for I know not how long. Had it been possible to have held her there always, he would never have let her go. At last he looked down into her tear-wet face, into her eyes that were shining with tears. "D-done wrong, Cynthy."
"D-done it if I hadn't b'en here, wouldn't you?" "Yes, and more too," said Mr. Batch. "W-wouldn't make much difference to you if I wasn't here would it?" "Great Scott, Jethro, what do you mean?" cried the railroad president, in genuine alarm; "you're not going to pull out, are you?" "W-wouldn't make much odds if I did would it, Ed?" "The devil it wouldn't!" exclaimed Mr. Balch.
"That was because ... the poor little man would have been killed ... anyone would have d-done that, and ... I d-did not think what I was d-doing...." "Yes, I know," and Nestie mocked his father shamefully, even unto his face; "and everybody read in the paper how the child wasn't near the cow, and the cow was quite nice and well-behaved, and you ... ran away; for shame, now!
She stole to him and flung her arms about his neck, and with a cry he seized her and held her against him for I know not how long. Had it been possible to have held her there always, he would never have let her go. At last he looked down into her tear-wet face, into her eyes that were shining with tears. "D-done wrong, Cynthy."
"You sit there from morning till night and won't say anything; and now, when there's only one block out, you won't give the word to buy it." "N-never told you to buy anything, did I Ed?" "No," answered Mr. Batch, "you haven't. I don't know what the devil's got into you." "D-done all the payin' without consultin' me, hain't you, Ed?" "Yes; I have. What are you driving at?"
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