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He come home last night all different, talking for the minister till I couldn't get a word in edgewise. It was awful late, too. And he told me that Sim Hicks had left town, or was going this morning." "I cal'late some one's clothed Harry in his right mind. You know, Eadie, that's Script're. Sim has took a trip for his health." "And Harry tells me that Mr. Fox is for the minister, too.
"We was busy talking, and them irons got too hot." "Talking, be you? Don't 'pear to have agreed with neither of you more than it did with those irons." "You didn't pass a mirror on the way down this morning, or you'd not be crowing so loud, Josiah." "No, that's a fact I didn't. You see, Eadie busted mine during that cleaning raid, and I can't afford a new one."
She watched him as he stumbled backward into the cupboard. Her face was a study. "What was it you was going to ask for, Eadie?" asked the seaman, trying to appear unconcerned in his decided embarrassment. "Well, I never!" exclaimed Mrs. Beaver. "We're engaged," announced Miss Pipkin in matter-of-fact tones. "Engaged! You and " "Yes, she and me," finished the Captain eagerly. Mrs.
Harry, I'll let you off, but if this here yarn gets out into the church through you or through the rest of the menagerie, we'll give you the little lesson I spoke about, and it will stick like glue to your anatomy. Now, you run along to Eadie, she'll be missing you, and I'd hate to send you home mussed up." Mr. Beaver ran. With a dart he shot for the stair. The members of the club escorted Mr.
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