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Pat howled thet law was law, an' he was goin' to lay down the law. Sure it 'peared to me thet Pat was daid set to arrest the first man he could find excuse to. "Then he cooled down a bit an' was askin' questions about the wounded Greaser when Gene Stewart come in. Whenever Pat an' Gene come together it reminds me of the early days back in the 'seventies. Jest naturally everybody shut up.
Yer pa's daid!" shivered Matty. "And the house is full of spirits. They're standin' grinnin' in the corners. I'm goin' hum now, little missy. I'm goin' to my ole man. You'd better come along fer to-night." Jinnie heard the moaning call of the pine trees as the winter's voice swept through them, the familiar sound she loved, yet at which she trembled.
It poked up its little concealed head, did this question, when the bride said later to me, with immense archness: "How any gentleman can help falling just daid in love with that lovely young girl at the Exchange, I don't see!" "But I haven't helped it!" I immediately exclaimed. "Oh!" declared the bride with unerring perception, "that just shows he hasn't been smitten at all!
A moment later the question that was in her thoughts leaped hotly from her lips. "Who are you, sir, that dare to commit murder and boast of it?" She had flicked him on the raw at last. Something that was near to pain rested for a second in his eyes. "Murder is a hard name, ma'am. And I didn't say he was daid, or any of the three," came his gentle answer. "You MEANT to kill them, anyhow."
De way dem gals shows demse'ves is right down bad to me. Is you goin' to dress lak dem we seen dat night?" Kit hung her head. "I guess I 'll have to." "Well, ef you have to, I 'd ruther see you daid any day. Oh, Kit, my little gal, don't do it, don't do it. Don't you go down lak yo' brothah Joe. Joe 's gone." "Why, ma, you don't understand. Joe 's somebody now.
Hit'll kill me done daid to chop wood dat a-way." "Pshaw!" said the impatient Deacon. "You're simply stupid; that's all. That's the only way to handle an ax. You kin cut with half the work that way." He was discovering what so many of us have found out, that among the hardest things in life is that of getting people to give up clumsy ways for those that are better.
Now ef yer don't tell the truth I'll raise the kentry 'roun' en we'll hunt 'im to the eends of the yearth." "Well den, Marse Perkins," admitted the terror-stricken woman, "I des tell you de truf. Dat gran'boy ob min' des come ter say good-by. Marse Scoville daid en Chunk mos' up Norf by dis time, he went away so sud'n." "That Yankee cuss dead?" cried Perkins in undisguised exultation.
"He seems to make a sort of specialty of bear, doesn't he? Got a pretty good pack, eh?" "Pack? I should say we has! We got the bestest b'ah pack in Miss'ippi, er in de whole worl'. We sho' is fixed up fer huntin'. But, now, look heah, two three days ago the railroad kyahs done run ovah a fine colt whut de Cunnel was raisin' fer a saddle hoss kilt it plumb daid. That riled him a heap.
The first edition contained nineteen psalms only, which were all versified by Sternhold. It was published in 1548 or 1549, under this title, "Certayn Psalmes chosen out of the Psalter of Daid and drawen into English Metre by Thomas Sternhold Groom of ye Kynges Maiesties Roobes." I believe no copy of this edition is now known to exist.
She shuddered, but the mountaineer continued: "Wall, she done all that, 'n' made me say arter her the things I wisht 'd strike me daid if I didn't git the fellers what had got him. Then one day, from up in the rocks, she p'inted 'em out, so'd I know 'em. One got drowned takin' a raft down ter Frankfo't he fell off jest arter I shot. 'N' t'other-un I didn't git fer a long time. I ketched him "
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