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Updated: May 5, 2025


A wire door, leading from the veranda to the main portion of the house, swung slowly open, and a woman, wearing a big, blue-checked apron, and carrying a long pewter spoon, looked out anxiously. "Davy!" she called in a loud whisper, "why don't you get on with your work?" "I'm helpin' the doctor with his mixtures," he answered, in a tone of remonstrance.

The dinner, though of course I ortn't to say it, but they all said, and of course it must be so, they said it wuz the best Thanksgivin' dinner that wuz ever cooked in this world, and Josiah whispered to me as he helped himself to the third helpin' of turkey and dressin', that he knowed that there never wuz such a meal cooked in Jupiter or Mars or any other planet.

Did, too, for 'bout a year an' since then never a cent! I've a mind to send you to the county farm, that I have!" "Now, maw," Paw Hoover, a kindly, toil-hardened farmer, would say when he happened to overhear one of these outbursts, "Bessie's a good girl, an' I reckon she earns her keep, don't she, helpin' you like, round the place?" "Earn her keep?" Mrs. Hoover would shrill.

"He will help her carry on the work of helpin' a sinful world. He will protect her in it, she cannot be harmed or hindered, for the cause she loves of helpin' men and wimmen, is God's cause too, and God will take care of His own.

He'd open up another room to you sometime, an' give you the key to unlock the door. An' he has. An' now you've got it that key." "I've got it the key!" "Yes. It's that work down there helpin' them blind men an' boys to get hold of their souls again. Oh, Keith, don't you see? An' it's such a big, wide room that God has given you, an' it's all yours.

Whoever she might be and whatever she might want, I'm strong for givin' her the helpin' hand. If I could have gone in and led old K. W. out by the arm, I'd have done it. But you couldn't have pulled him away from that Board scrap with a donkey-engine. He was unloadin' a ten months' grouch against some of Old Hickory's pet policies, Mr.

"I mind the last time he was home; the day he left, when the old man was out to the barn helpin' his hand hitch up to take Harve to the train, and Cal Moots was patchin' up the fence, Harve, he come out on the step and sings out, in his ladylike voice: 'Cal Moots, Cal Moots! please come cord my trunk." "That's Harve for you," approved the Grand Army man gleefully.

"I dawn't want onny helpin' out," replied the pirate. "It's loike this 'ere, ma'aster," he continued, turning again to Colwyn. "Arter Dick and I left the Anchor las' night, we thowt we'd be walkin' a spell.

When dad moved up to the Gap, Bug was toler'ble bad, an' since then he's been gittin' worse. "He was in Carlisle jail twict fer stealin', an' in summer he jest lives shiftless like along the creek, helpin' hisself to the farmers' stuff. Now he dassent come home no more, for dad says he won't own him fur a son. Mammy cries heaps an' says her heart's broke.

"I were workin' at the lumber camps a week this summer helpin' they out," said Eli. "Whilst I were there Indian Jake comes and trades a pair of skin boots with one of the lumber men for a pair of their boots, the kind with nails in un. He the same as says he has the fur, and 'twere he took un." "Injun Jake wears skin boots when he come to our camp on Flat P'int," said David.

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