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Updated: June 23, 2025
With "Old Nick" Frye the eleventh commandment, "Thou shalt not get caught," outweighed all the rest. John Nason, one of his principal clients, was a wealthy and successful merchant, and both proud and fond of his only son.
He replied, "I am just tottering around," and after a pause, added, "Cullom, when I die and you die and Frye dies, and one or two others, this Senate will not amount to much, will it?"
Crabbe were disputing a game of checkers. They sat opposite each other, stared at the checkerboard, and stroked their chins. Farmer Barly stood watching them. He puffed on his pipe, and nodded his head at every move. But all the while he was thinking about Anna. "Pretty near time she was settling down," he thought. Mr. Frye jumped over two, and leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile.
"Yes and no," replied Albert; "your father has given me the chance of a lifetime and I am free from old Frye. I have you to thank for the chance, I am sure." "Well, I put in a good word for you when I had the opportunity," said Frank modestly, "and the sermon you preached me once, and which I reported to dad, may have had some weight with him."
ASHER. If he lives to arrive. I'll show you the wire. Apparently they can't make anything out of his condition, but think it's shell shock. This storm has been raging along the coast ever since nine o'clock, the wires are down, but I did manage to telephone to New York and get hold of Frye, the shell-shock specialist. In case George should land today, he'll meet him.
Then he added with a chuckle, "He must 'a' had a sudden change o' heart, and if the Widder Leach hears on't she'll swear 'twas the workings o' the Lord on a sinner's mind. He looked as though he'd seen some awful sight." When the tragic end of Frye had been duly commented upon, Albert said to Uncle Terry, "Take those valuables back with you, but leave me the letter and I will attend to the rest."
Wicket planted her rows of corn, is left to grow its mouthful of hay, to sell to Mr. Frye." "Ah," said Mr. Tomkins wisely, "that's it. Well, Mrs. Wicket, now. Still," he added, "he'll have a lot of nettles in that hay." "The rich," Mr. Jeminy continued, "quarrel with the poor, and the poor, by way of answer, with rich and poor alike.
He gave one low moan, the first, last, and only one during those three long weeks of agony! A few who sat near heard it, but did not even look at him, so lost were they to all human feeling. The devil's teeth kept snapping, the endless coils of tape kept unwinding; the boy continued his drawl, but Frye paid no heed.
There was a sense in which the little man could sing. Where hye ye been a' dye? he would ask, and answer himself: I've been by burn and flowery brye, Meadow green an' mountain grye, Courtin' o' this young thing, Just come frye her mammie.
Dad says he has won out many times when the law was all against him, and is not over-scrupulous how he does it. They say he is rich, and a skinflint. He always reminds me of a hungry buzzard." Albert thought of Burns' apt cynicism just then, and wished that Frye might for one moment see himself as others saw him.
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