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Updated: September 24, 2025
Perhaps Mr. Minor might answer your question." Galusha was thinking of Minor that very moment, but he shook his head. Martha had asked that no one but Cousin Gussie be told of her trouble. No, he would wait, at least until he heard from the secretary in the West. "Why, thank you, Mr. Barbour," he said, rising. "I I will wait, I think." "All right, sir. Sorry, but you see how it is.
Cabot" so astonishing, that the latter was obliged to stop even in the full tide of his enjoyment of the joke. He turned, to find Galusha leaning forward, one hand upon the center table, and the other extending a forefinger in his direction. The finger shook a little, but its owner's countenance was set like a rock. And now it was not crimson, but white. "Mr.
He was weak from illness. He was wet and chilled. And yes, it was beginning to rain. He put down the suitcase once more. "Oh, my soul!" he exclaimed, and not far away, close at hand, the word "soul" was repeated. "Oh, dear!" cried Galusha, startled. "Dear!" repeated the echo, for it was an echo. Galusha, brandishing the tiny flashlight, moved toward the sound.
The Honourable Galusha Hammer still remained the senior counsel, but was now confined in his house at Newcastle by an illness which made the probability of his return to active life extremely doubtful; and Tom had repeatedly declared that in the event of his non-recovery Austen should have Mr. Hammer's place.
Well, almost immediately after receiving the check, up he comes to our Boston office and " "Cousin Gussie! I I protest! "Up he comes, Miss Phipps, and draws five thousand of the fourteen thousand in cash, in money, and takes it away with him. Then " "Cousin Gussie! Mr. Cabot!" The tone in which Galusha spoke was so different from his usual one, and the fact of his addressing his relative as "Mr.
And before her skipped, figuratively speaking, the diminutive figure of Galusha Bangs, guiding, pointing, declaiming, describing, the incarnation of enthusiastic energy, as different as anything could be from the mild, dreamy little person who had sat opposite her at the supper table so short a time before.
"Why why, I don't know. Really, I " "Go 'way, boy!" derisively. "Go 'way! Don't tell me you don't want money. Everybody wants it. You and me ain't John D.'s yet, by a consider'ble sight. Hey? Haw, haw! Anyhow I ain't, and I'll say this for you, Perfessor, if you are, you don't look it. Haw, haw!" He laughed again. Galusha glanced despairingly at the locked door. Mr.
Even Galusha laughed, though not as often. It was hard for him to forget the powder barrel sensation. Each time his cousin opened his mouth to speak, he dreaded to hear reference to a dangerous subject or to be asked a question which would set fire to the fuse. The clock struck seven. Martha glanced at it and suddenly uttered an exclamation. "My goodness gracious!" she exclaimed. "I declare, Mr.
"Certainly, certainly, Mr. Bloomer. I'm not in the least offended." "Um-hm. Didn't cal'late you would be. Can't help our names, can we? If my folks had asked me aforehand I'd a-been named plain John. As 'tis, my name's like my legs, growed that way and it's too late to change." Galusha smiled. "You're a philosopher, I see, Mr. Bloomer," he said.
Primmie did not answer. She merely waved her hands up and down and stood there, dripping like a wet umbrella. "But my soul, Primmie!" cried Mr. Bangs. "Don't! You you mustn't, you know." But Primmie did, nevertheless. Galusha in desperation turned toward the door. "I'm going to call Miss Phipps," he declared. Primmie, the tears still pouring down her cheeks, seized him by the arm.
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