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Updated: May 21, 2025
The morning after their arrival, our travellers, strong with the vigor of the young day, set forth to explore the cliffs, bidding adieu to original Youth, who, standing ready to depart, beside his horse, was carolling the following ditty in glorification of his native town: "Ga'ed Light is out o' sight, Menemshee Crik is sandy, Holmes's Hole's a pooty place, An' Oldtown Pint's onhandy."
This hole's deep enough, I'm thinking." They both clambered out, and one squatted at the head of the grave and mopped his face with his delicate handkerchief, while the other swung his fine cloak with an air and dug his bare toes in the sand. The two boats now grated upon the beach, and several of their occupants, springing out, dragged them up on the sand.
He has no regard for facts, but simply goes ahead and makes statements with an utter disregard of the truth. The Ark was not stove in. We beached her very successfully. I say this in defence of my seamanship, which was top-notch for my day." "Couldn't sail six weeks without fouling a mountain-peak!" sneered Wren, perceiving a chance to get even. "The hole's there, just the same," said Charon.
"We want to find out where the water goes to that is always falling. I'm sure some of it comes out of our river, where the hole's in the stream." "And what good will it do to know where the water goes?" "I don't know, but I want to. Can't go to work after such a night as we had. There's nobody down the mine to-day." Mark put his hand to the place where he had received the blow.
"What folks want now is a detective story. Feller sees a hole in a fence an' says, 'Ha! there's ben a murder! Somebody asks what makes him think so, an' the detective feller says, takin' out a magnifie-in' glass, 'Thet hole's a bullet-hole, an' the traces o' blood aroun' the edges shows the bullet went through a human body afore it went through the fence. 'Then, says some one, 'where's the body? 'That, says the detective, 'is what we mus' diskiver. So the story goes on to show how the body were diskivered an' who did the murderin'."
But this reply proved nothing, other than how bullheaded the harpooner could be. That day I pressed him no further. The Scotia's accident was undeniable. Its hole was real enough that it had to be plugged up, and I don't think a hole's existence can be more emphatically proven.
"There's Koppy just come out of his shack. A couple with him, Werner and Heppel, I bet." "Dear me!" she teased out to him. "And I've been so careful with the meals." A few moments of mirror concentration. "But I know what it really is that trestle. It's nerves. . . . Till that hole's filled you're just an ordinary sick man. . . . And you know you can't stand the twilight.
"Marjie, maybe if that hole's too deep for Lettie to reach clear in, there might be somethin' she's missed. I dunno'. But niver moind. I took me vacation, went sailin' out with Dever fur a rale splurge to Kansas City. Across the Neosho Dever turns the stage aside, U. S. mail and all, and lands me siven miles up the river and ferries me on this side again.
He has no regard for facts, but simply goes ahead and makes statements with an utter disregard of the truth. The Ark was not stove in. We beached her very successfully. I say this in defence of my seamanship, which was top-notch for my day." "Couldn't sail six weeks without fouling a mountain-peak!" sneered Wren, perceiving a chance to get even. "The hole's there, just the same," said Charon.
"I can't talk," the section chief gasped. "Gotta get into a suit, we're leaking in here...." "Well, plug up the hole!" "The hole's four feet wide, sir!" There was a fit of coughing and the contact broke.
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