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Updated: June 6, 2025
It wasn't long before we began to get postcards pictures of the naval training station, and the gymnasium, and of model camps and of drills, and of Eddie in his uniform. His mother insisted on calling it his sailor suit, as though he were a little boy. One day Josie Morehouse came over to Mrs. Houghton's with a group picture in her hand. She handed it to Eddie's mother without comment. Mrs.
Lady Hartledon driving, the boy-groom sitting beside her, and Eddie's short legs striding the pony. They were keeping to the Park, she called to her husband, and she should drive slowly. There was no real danger, as Val believed; only he did not like the child's wilful temper given way to. With a deep sigh he turned indoors for his hat, and went strolling down the avenue. Mrs.
Another shot rang out above them, although Billy had been watching for a target at which to shoot again a target which he had been positive he would get when the man rose to fire again. And Billy did see the fellow at last a few paces from where he had first fired; but not until the other had dropped Eddie's horse beneath him.
His manner was exactly similar to Ben's in his recent moment of depression, and not unlike McKellar's when he had explained what he suffered under the good Lord's weather. "Is Eddie's game any better?" asked Crystal, feeling her way. "No," cried her father, contemptuously. "He's rotten, but I'm worse. And golf-clubs, Crystal! No one can make a club any more. Have you noticed that?
Now and then Eddie interrupted with a, "Yes, but " that grew more and more infrequent, until finally they ceased altogether. Eddie's man-size job had come. When we heard the news we all dropped in at the drug store to joke with him about it. We had a good deal to say about rolling gaits, and bell-shaped trousers, and anchors and sea serpents tattooed on the arm.
Columbus Blackie, The General, and Dirty Eddie were formally presented. As Dirty Eddie was, physically, the cleanest member of the band the youth wondered how he had come by his sobriquet that is, he wondered until he heard Dirty Eddie speak, after which he was no longer in doubt. The Oskaloosa Kid, self-confessed 'tramp' and burglar, flushed at the lurid obscenity of Dirty Eddie's remarks.
The sun was shining level in his eyes, and sunlight to Eddie had long meant danger. "I guess we better hurry, then. I'll get the horses down outa sight, and come back here afoot and wait." "Do that, kid," said Bud, slipping wearily off Sunfish. He gave the reins into Eddie's hand, motioned Jerry with his head to follow, and hurried down the winding path to the corrals.
Looking for young men with brains, and muscle, and ambition. It's a great chance. We don't get to these here little towns much." He placed a handbill in Eddie's hand. Eddie glanced down at it sheepishly. "I've heard," he said, "that it's a hard life." The man in the sailor suit threw back his head and laughed, displaying a great deal of hairy throat and chest.
He was one o' these nervous, fretty fellers what like to do their own drivin', an' he makes him a set o' minin' tools out of a tin saucepan an' a bed-castor, an' runs a level from his own cell into Eddie's an' that was the queer, scratchin' sound that made Eddie decide not to kill himself.
As she ascended the stair and entered Eddie's room, all the elasticity was gone from her step, all the brightness from her cheeks and eyes and, still clasping her boy's letter and book to her heart, she threw herself upon his bed and burst into a passion of tears. Meantime, the elms on Boston Common were clothed with tender April green and under foot sweet, soft grass was springing.
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