Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 10, 2025
"How did you come to get invited with Dick's crowd, anyway?" asked Hoof Sadby. "I wasn't just exactly invited," hesitated Hen Dutcher. "But I was going through the forest when the big snowstorm came up, and " "And you made Prescott's crowd invite you into the cabin?" pressed Spoff Henderson. "Ye-es," claimed Hen reluctantly.
"Well who are they? name them." Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, Where's Nicholas Vedder? There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in a thin, piping voice, "Nicholas Vedder? why, he is dead and gone these eighteen years! There was a wooden tombstone in the churchyard that used to tell all about him, but that's rotten and gone too." "Where's Brom Dutcher?"
"It wouldn't hurt his old pond! And the ice is always splendid on it. I'd give a lot if we could only go there." Ned was silent. A sudden idea had come to him. He wondered if it were feasible. "Anyhow, I'll try it," he said to himself. "I'll interview Old Dutcher tomorrow." The skating that night was not particularly successful.
There are only a few kinds of improper "millinery" feathers that it is possible to sell here under the law. Thanks to the long and arduous campaign of the National Association of Audubon Societies, founded and for ten years directed by gallant William Dutcher, you now see on the streets of New York very, very little wild-bird plumage save that from game birds.
"Unless you want us to beat you up and simply throw you outside into a snowdrift." "But I'm hungry," protested Mr. Fits. "Also, it's mighty cold lying here." "Stay right where you are," Dick went on sternly. "Hen, get this fellow's overcoat and throw it on the floor near the door." Dutcher obeyed, though he seemed to feel decidedly nervous about it.
"I guess you'll have to ask Hen Dutcher." "Well, there's no one here but ourselves," Tom went on, as the boys stood staring about the tiny shack. "As far as finding anything here is concerned we may as well go about our task of wood gathering." "I wish we could get at the bottom of the ghost mystery," muttered Dick wistfully. "So do I," agreed Reade, "but wishes aren't snow plows, and never were.
"If that doesn't happen, then I'll run you all out into the snow. You won't last long out there, I warrant you! It's a fearful night." "Wait!" begged Hen Dutcher. "I'll wait on you, sir." "No, you won't, Hen," spoke Dick sharply, firmly. "This man doesn't stay here. He's going to leave mighty soon, or he'll wish he had.
He was well aware what the Grammar School boys in Gridley did to one of their own number who was voted a sneak. "I I didn't mean any harm," muttered Hen, almost whimpering. "See here," demanded Dick, another idea coming to him, "how much did Fred Ripley pay you to help work against us." "He didn't pay me nothing," young Dutcher protested ungrammatically. "How much did he agree to pay you, then?
Some of these amateur pickets were girls fresh from college, and among these were Elsie Cole, the brilliant daughter of Albany's Superintendent of Schools, Inez Milholland, the beautiful and cherished daughter of a millionaire father, leader of her class, of 1909, in Vassar College, Elizabeth Dutcher and Violet Pike, both prominent in the Association of Collegiate Alumnae.
"Is that the only kind of turkey you have with you?" asked Hen. "The only kind," smiled Dick. "Don't you like codfish, Hen?" "Not a little bit," grumbled Dutcher. "Then you can cut out breakfast, and you'll have a fine appetite at noon," offered Dan consolingly. "It seems to me that you fellows use me as meanly as you know how," flared Hen. "You ought to be ashamed of yourselves."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking