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I'm fer abolition an' I've stood your domineerin', nigger-driver ways long enough fer one mornin'. If you don't like it you can look for another man." Aunt Deel and I began to laugh at this good-natured, make-believe scolding of Uncle Peabody and the emotional strain was over.
Uncle Peabody stood near with the horses. He looked at me. He stuck his finger into the honey on my coat and smelt it. "Well, by " he stopped and came closer and asked. "What's happened?" "Bee stung me," I answered. "Where did ye find so much honey that ye could go swimmin' in it?" he asked. I heard the door of the house open suddenly and the voice of Aunt Deel. "Peabody!
"What in the world do you want of Sally Dunkelberg?" he asked. "Oh, just to play with her," I said as I showed him how I could sit on my hands and raise myself from the chair bottom. "Haven't you any one to play with at home?" "Only my Uncle Peabody." "Don't you like to play with him?" "Oh, some, but he can't stand me any longer. He's all tired out, and my Aunt Deel, too.
How strange that those tales of blood and lawless daring which Kate had given to Amos Grimshaw had led to the slaying of her own son! Yet, so it happened, and the old wives will tell you the story up there in the hills. The play ends just as the night is falling with Kate and me entering the little home, so familiar now, where she lives and is ever welcome with Aunt Deel and Uncle Peabody.
I saw Elk deer & Antelopes, and great deel of old Signs of buffalow. their roads is in every direction.
While we were eating I told them about the letter of old Kate. "Fullerton!" Aunt Deel exclaimed. "Are ye sure that was the name, Bart?" "Yes." "Goodness gracious sakes alive!" She and Uncle Peabody gave each other looks of surprised inquiry. "Do you know anybody by that name?" I asked. "We used to," said Aunt Deel as she resumed her eating. "Can't be she's one o' the Sam Fullertons, can it?"
Then they cut a hole in the upper floor and the stone chimney and fitted the pipe. How keenly we watched the building of the fire! How quickly it roared and began to heat the room! When the Axtells had gone away Aunt Deel said: "It's grand! It is sartin but I'm 'fraid we can't afford it ayes I be!" "We can't afford to freeze any longer.
"Ayes! we'll see what they're about." Aunt Deel began with The Stolen Child. She read slowly and often paused for comment or explanation or laughter or to touch the corner of an eye with a corner of her handkerchief in moments when we were all deeply moved by the misfortunes of our favorite characters, which were acute and numerous.
"Yours respectfully, S. WRIGHT, JR. "P.S. When the contents of the box has duly risen into your minds, will you kindly see that it does a like service to your neighbors in School District No. 7? "I guess Bart has made a friend o' this great man sartin ayes!" said Aunt Deel. "I wonder who'll be the next one." I remember that I tried to walk and talk like Silas Wright after that day.
I remember looking in vain for Sally as we passed the Dunkelbergs'. I remember my growing loneliness as the day wore on and how Aunt Deel stood silently buttoning my coat with tears rolling down her cheeks while I leaned back upon the gate in front of the Hacket house, on Ashery Lane, trying to act like a man and rather ashamed of my poor success.
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