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"For a quiet body you can say the meanest things," exclaimed Mrs. Poe Tato-Bug. Just then Mrs. Cricket, head down, went hurrying by and said as she passed, "You'd better go home. Farmer Hayseed is pouring white stuff all over your houses. Most of your folks have left, but I saw little Poe and Tato still there." "Dear me! O! O!" they both cried, "those children will be choked to death!"

"Never mind," the old gentleman said, "you'll feel better in a few minutes." "That's just the trouble," Brent complained. "If I hadn't lapped up so much of your delectable nose-paint, that hayseed couldn't have walked me to death. I'm as good a man as he is any day when in condition!"

And there is one thing more I should have said, viz.: All your life and all my life, we have cultivated the opinion at home that we had nothing to do with the rest of the world, nothing to do with Europe in particular and in our political life our hayseed spokesmen have said this over and over again till many people, perhaps most people, came really to believe that it was true.

The old man, with the hayseed in his hair, and the stains of bitumen upon his gnarled hands, ate and drank of the best, seeing a glorified vision of his Lily crowned with diamonds at last. The vision faded somewhat when Nathaniel began to talk dollars and cents.

I have arranged for us to dine with him at the Anglaise to-night and we are to order the dinner carte blanche." The rich old uncle to whom I was presented did not have the appearance of a hayseed. On the contrary he was a most distinguished-looking old gentleman. The dinner we ordered was "stunning" especially the wines.

And I didn't think he had it in him. Rather a queer kind o' chap, good deal of hayseed about him. Showed up at the inquest so glum and orkerd that if the boys hadn't made up their minds this yer Frisbee ORTER BEEN killed it might have gone hard with him." "Mr.

Wherever they were their house was a very home a kind of Yankee shrine of visiting Americans and militant Americanism. Years before he was made consul general in point of fact when he was plain consul at Marseilles he ran over to Paris for a lark. One day he said to me, "A rich old hayseed uncle of mine has come to town. He has money to burn and he wants to meet you.

Poe Tato-Bug looked eagerly, and sure enough, there was Farmer Hayseed with a big box marked "Paris Green" in one hand, and in the other a sieve through which he was sifting fine white powder. "Dear me!" sighed Mrs. Poe Tato-Bug, "this is such a relief. Here we are." At once she began scurrying around over every leaf of her home, but not a sign of little Poe and Tato could she find.

"Jest hear him," said Sam Lawson, looking pensively over the hay-mow, and strewing hayseed down on his wool. "How that 'are critter seems to tickle and laugh all the while 'bout nothin'. Lordy massy! he don't seem never to consider that 'this life's a dream, an empty show." "Look here, Sam," we broke in, anxious to cut short a threatened stream of morality, "you promised to tell us about Capt.

She now concluded that he was entirely crazy. "We only keep hayseed in the spring," she explained loftily. "We've none on hand just now." "Oh, certainly certainly just as you say," stammered unhappy Matthew, seizing the rake and making for the door. At the threshold he recollected that he had not paid for it and he turned miserably back.