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Updated: May 3, 2025
I asked you what you took your front gate off the hinges for." "Oh, I didn't. I took the hinges off the gate." "Well, it amounts to the same thing. The gate's standin' up alongside the fence. What did you do it for?" Jed sighed. "It squeaked like time," he drawled, "and I had to stop it." "So you took the hinges off? Gracious king! Why didn't you ile 'em so they wouldn't squeak?"
One entering had, moreover, to turn out, as it were, for the trees, and take a circuitous route around them to the right to the front-door path, which was quite slippery with a film of green moss. There had been, years ago, a gap betwixt the trees a gate's width but now none could enter unless the branches were lopped, and Eben Merritt would not allow that.
The girl made one final effort to hang back. Anisty's brows blackened. "By God!" he told her in a whisper. "If you dare...!" And somehow she found herself at his side in the steel cage, the gate's clang ringing loud in her ears. The motion of the car, shooting upwards with rapidly increasing speed, made her slightly giddy.
Show doesn't open till to-morrow at four. Can't get in to-day. Gate's bolted. Nothing doing." And then the man detached himself from the group at the gate and came over to the car with a leaflet in his hand. "Say " he said, "how are you to-day, Miss Heap? Mrs. Ridding, your humble servant say, look at this. Teapot Twist wasn't born yesterday when it comes to keeping things dark.
But it has always surprised me that nobody did come; but just at this minute the field's clear and the gate's open." "Well," said Mr. Rooper, "I'll think about it." "That's right," said Asaph, rubbing his knees with his hands. "That's right. But now tell me, Thomas Rooper, supposin' you get Marietta, what are you goin' to do for me?" "For you?" exclaimed the other.
The watchman and the traveller go on together. They walk shoulder to shoulder in silence. A damp, cutting wind blows straight into their faces and the unseen trees murmuring and rustling scatter big drops upon them. . . . The path is almost entirely covered with puddles. "There is one thing passes my understanding," says the watchman after a prolonged silence "how you got here. The gate's locked.
"We can come back here when it's moonlight. I know a way of getting in, after the gate's shut." They hired a boat, rowed over to the far bank, and sat on the stern seat, side by side under the trees where the water was stained deep green by the high woods. If they talked, it was but a word of love now and then, or to draw each other's attention to a fish, a bird, a dragon-fly.
All these statements, moreover, date from a century or more after Gate's death. Cicero, De Off. ii. 25, 89; Colum. vi. praef. 4, comp. ii. 16, 2; Plin.
Damn him, cried Friar John, that's as true as I am his uncle. The dog yelps at another gate's rate when he is among his bitches; there he is polysyllable enough, my life for yours. You talk of making three bites of a cherry! God send fools more wit and us more money!
And I've found out that most of 'em is put out to pasture in Jansen's pasture north of the railroad. It runs north most to the cemetery, I'm told. But what of that when the gate's at this end? You don't have to drive the cows no further than the gate, Pat, dear. And the gate you almost passes when you're goin' to Gineral Brady's by the back way up the track. It's not far from us, by no manes."
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