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This hot weather is giving me an awful headache." "Oh, you've got a headache, have ye? Well, that's retribution, Mr. Hewett. You ought to have a headache. You've led my husband astray. He's a temperance man." "Me lead him astray!" groaned Hewett. "Why, 'twas him and Eben that coaxed me over to Applesnack's store." "Now don't you tell me that, you sinful old hypocrite!

I don't want to hear another word on the subject, and I won't. It's over; understand that. 'Well, well; you're a bit out of sorts. I'll say good-bye for the present. He retired, and for a long time Sidney sat in black brooding. John Hewett did not fail to present himself next evening.

Following the nomadic custom of their kind, Bob Hewett and his wife had lived in six or seven different lodgings since their honeymoon in Shooter's Gardens. Mrs. Candy first of all made a change necessary, as might have been anticipated, and the restlessness of domestic ill-being subsequently drove them from place to place. 'Come in 'ere, Johnny, she Called to the child lying on the landing.

The design of the whole seems to have been very poor: "the miserable organ gallery" is what Hewett calls it. The original stone screen that formed the entrance to the choir before the tower fell, situated in the bay of the nave next to the octagon, was still standing. It had served as the organ-loft until the alteration.

A step in angling history is also marked by George Pulman's Vade-Mecum of Fly-fishing for Trout , for it contains the first definite instructions on fishing with a "dry fly." Another is marked by Hewett Wheatley's The Rod and the Line , where is to be found the earliest reference to the "eyed" hook.

Hewett, which enlisted the full energy of her not inconsiderable powers for conscience-guided meddling. The parson had deemed the time ripe for a war on the groggeries of the Flats, with the outcome that most bar-rooms of the town, including that of the Tuscarora House, were found to be violating the Sunday closing law.

If it's ever to come right, it'll have to be by waiting; we won't talk about that any more. Think of her quite apart from me, and what I've been hoping. She's seventeen years old. You can't deal with a girl of that age like you can with Amy and Annie. You'll have to trust her, Mr. Hewett. You'll have to, because there's no help for it.

Peckover, whose old acquaintance he was, the druggist left the shop in care of his son, aged fifteen, and sped to Clerkenwell Close. He made light of Jane's ailment. 'A little fever, that was all soon pull her round. Any wounds, by-the-by? No? Oh, soon pull her round. Send for medicines. 'We'll have her down in the back-kitchen as soon as the corffin's away, said Mrs. Peckover to Mrs. Hewett.

Old Hewett, propped like a wheezy mummy against the oak tree that shaded the Prince of Wales's Feathers, brought up his stiff arm slowly in a salute to the vicar's daughter. "'Evening," said Isabel cheerfully, "what a night for rheumatics isn't it?" Hewitt chuckled mightily at this subtle joke. "'Evening, Isabel," called out Dr.

I would not imply that John thought of the matter in these terms, but his reflections bore this significance. Bob was raised for ever above the rank of those who depend merely upon their muscles, even as Clara was saved from the dismal destiny of the women who can do nothing but sew. There was, on the whole, some reason why John Hewett should feel pride in his eldest son.