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"That's all right for you, Dele," said Joe, attacking a can of peas with a carving knife and a hatchet, "but how about me? Do you think I'm going to let you hustle for wages while I philander in the regions of high art? Not by the bones of Benvenuto Cellini! I guess I can sell papers or lay cobblestones, and bring in a dollar or two." Delia came and hung about his neck. "Joe, dear, you are silly.

A Grecian nose would take all the piquancy out of her face. "It may be a little more than two years," considered Delia, "and The. may start off again. Oh, I'm pretty sure to go some time!" "I've quite made up my mind to go some time," Ben announced gravely, then laughed. "It would be such fun to go together," said Dele, in her harum-scarum fashion, without a thought of any future contingency.

Of course a woman couldn't take matters as Bayard Taylor did; but if she was economical and found cheap places! I do wonder if she could go alone?" Tourists' parties had not been invented, though men occasionally clubbed together and obtained accommodations more cheaply. "Two years," returned Ben, musingly. Dele was certainly growing prettier.

As the spring went by quaint rimes passed through the country, and served as a summons to revolt. "John Ball," ran one, "greeteth you all, and doth for to understand he hath rung your bell. Now right and might, will and skill, God speed every dele." "Help truth," ran another, "and truth shall help you!

Owing to the disgust engendered by my unsavory quarters in the wretched Dele Baba village last night, I have determined upon seeking the friendly shelter of a wheat-shock again to-night, preferring the chances of being frozen out at midnight to the entomological possibilities of village hovels.

Osgood was holding them for a literary circle. Of course she could not aim at anything as elegant as that; but newspaper men, young and old, were in the habit of dropping in upon Mr. Whitney quite informally. About ten, they might be asked down to the dining-room, where there was a dainty little spread, sometimes a Welsh rarebit that Dele could concoct to perfection.

Whitney sat at the head with a book in her hand; Dave, the second son, was smoking and reading his paper. Both girls had gone out. "Oh, Mrs. Underhill, don't feel a bit worried! They'll come home all safe. I shouldn't wonder if Dele had taken them over to her aunt's, and she'll never let them come home without their supper. She's the greatest hand for children I ever saw.

And the divine something that no dictionary has ever yet found a word to describe must surround them. There was a fair-haired girl at school who had such an exquisite smile. And Daisy Jasper! For her to write verses would be the supreme fitness of things. But careless, laughing, untidy Dele Whitney, neither fair nor dark and yes, freckled, though her hair was more brown than red now.

It could be done in three lines as he said before, dele 1840 and put in 1838. That was all that they had to do. If it were possible, let the thing be done in two words. He went there to do his duty to his constituents, and he was determined to do so.

"Everything at sixes and sevens, and the cloth looking as if it had been used a month, and Mrs. Whitney as unconcerned as if the children had only gone down to the corner. I declare I couldn't be so so " "But they're a jolly lot. They save a great deal of strength in not worrying. And they know Dele is trusty. She's a smart girl, too."