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Updated: May 14, 2025
Jock had lazed about the Station since noon. The wedding preparations bored him, and the train's delay angered him. "See here!" he exploded to Tom Smith, the agent, "ain't it stretching a point too far when that gol-durned train gives herself four hours' lee-way?"
He oozed oil on the community that he was demoralizing with his poisonous whiskey and doctored beer." "God bless and save us!" Jock rolled from side to side. "If you don't beat all for gol-durned sass. Why, Tate will sue you for damages if that great American novel ever strikes his vision. Oil! Thunderation; and poisonous whiskey, and doctored beer.
I I forgot my dress, and tore off my cloak in that cold, empty room and I took that poor baby in my arms. Then then the hardest part came she she didn't know me. She got the queerest little notion in her baby head she she thought I was an angel. Oh! oh! and I wanted her to know me." Down went the girlish head in the open pages of the character sketches. "Well of all gol-durned nonsense!"
Nor was he in the mood to submit to them. "Don't be a fule, sis. I'm tired dog tired. I'm sick, too. I believe somethin's broken inside me." He pushed her on one side and hurried into the room. "Come in an' shut that gol-durned door," he cried, without turning, as he made his way to the rocking-chair. He dropped into it, his face contorting hideously with the awful pain the process caused him.
This here gassing 'bout things what ain't worthwhile don't pay. Here, lean on me. It's all gol-durned nonsense using yourself up so." He took Drew firmly by the arm, and led him away. Drew was too weak to continue, even had he desired to do so, the conversation Filmer had forced upon him, but when they were smoking in the late afternoon Jock returned to the subject.
"Rather that way." "Well, I'm hanged!" said both Grief and Wrinkles. They grinned in a pleased, urchin-like manner. "Say, who do you suppose she is? Somebody he met this summer, no doubt. Would you ever think old Billie would get into that sort of a thing? Well, I'll be gol-durned!" Ultimately Wrinkles said, "Well, it's his own business." This was spoken in a tone of duty.
Girls ain't got any business learnin' lessons off'n men. "Grand-dad said, 'Aw! forget it, Joe. She's got my permission, so let that end it. George Bremner's all right. "The settlers are arranging for a teacher up here next summer. Why can't she wait till then and get her lessons from a reg'lar professional, and no gol-durned amatoor, said Joe.
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