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"What does it mean?" they exclaimed together. From the dark pass before them came a sound which in the distance resembled the report of a firecracker, followed quickly by two or three other sounds, and then by many, as if the whole pack had been ignited at once. But both boys knew it was not firecrackers. It was something far more deadly and terrible a hail of rifle bullets.
He was such a comfort to me, although he tormented my old heart out of me, 'most." "The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken away Blessed be the name of the Lord! But it's so hard Oh, it's so hard! Only last Saturday my Joe busted a firecracker right under my nose and I knocked him sprawling. Little did I know then, how soon Oh, if it was to do over again I'd hug him and bless him for it."
I never felt that way at home, when I visited a cemetery, but I though I would shoot my last roman candle and fire my last giant firecracker right there in that moseleum, and take the chances that we would get out alive.
"It's that way with ranches too. A fellow couldn't raise much of a herd in Denver, could he?" A sound like the explosion of a distant firecracker reached them. It was followed by a second. It is strange what a difference there is between the report of one shot and another. A riotous cowpuncher bangs away into the air to stress the fact that he is a live one on the howl.
Why, if those niggers could go off in the woods and shoot at a mark for a week, and get so they could hit anything, our boys would all be dead in a month. The trouble is the niggers just pull up a gun and touch it off like a girl does a firecracker.
"Came too late for an echo," Big Bill said. Again faintly from some far corner of the basin the sound drifted. It was like the pop of a scarcely heard firecracker. The men looked at one another and at their prisoner. Their eyes consulted once more. "Think we better break camp and drift?" asked Dud. "No. We're in a little draw here as good a hiding-place as we'd be likely to find.
He stood looking at her for what seemed one long endless wave of uncounted time and that firecracker noise he had heard kept echoing and echoing through his head like the sound of loud steps along a long and empty corridor. Then he suddenly dropped the pistol and knelt clumsily beside her. "Rose!
The floors look scrubbed and there is an absence of litter. It is all very efficient and very natural except for the immobility of the men in the chairs and the silence that seems to have descended on them. A Chinese silence. And if you linger in the neighborhood you begin to feel that this is more Chinese than the gaudy dragons and the firecracker daubs and the bobbing paper lanterns of fiction.
Then the fox ran and hid in the bushes, waiting for the house and Dr. Pigg to be blown up, so he could go in and take whatever he wanted. The string on the firecracker burned slowly, but surely. And the fox knew it would be a perfectly tremendous explosion, for the firecracker was as big as a hundred lead pencils made into one. But now watch and see what happens. After Dr.
Then I can take anything I want. That's what I'll do. I'll blow the place up!" Then he lighted the string of the firecracker, standing up on his hind legs to reach it, you see, and, as it was a long string, the fox knew it would burn some time before it would explode the firecracker. So the fox ran out into the kitchen, where Dr.
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