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Updated: May 21, 2025
Sim and I carried her into the house. We laid her in Sim's bunk, and Flora was as tender with her as though she had been a baby. "Hookie!" exclaimed Sim, staring at the sufferer, with his mouth open wide enough to take in a canal boat. "Is she dead?" "No not dead!" replied Flora, as she lifted the wet locks from her face, and gently rubbed her temples. "What shall we do for her, Buckland?"
He did not have his lambs any too well in hand, however. O.B. Taylor, a lovable character in Number One Company, came to his end here. The Germans ordered him and Hookie Walker to go back down the trench. He had no sooner turned to do so than a German shot him from behind and from quite close, so that it blew the groin completely out, making a terrible hole.
After much persuasion I induced Sim to work himself along the stick till he reached the dry land; for we had passed beyond the greatest depression in the swamp, where the stream did not cover the banks. Eagerly he passed from the log to the bank, and actually danced with joy when he found himself once more on the solid earth. "Hookie!
One of these men seized the boat, and the other, in whom I recognized Stevens, the constable from Torrentville, grasped me by the collar, and dragged me out of the boat to the shore. "We have got you at last," said the officer. "Hookie!" shouted Sim, as he stood up in the boat gazing at me, with his eyes distended, and his mouth wide open. My tyrants had me again.
Goodridge sent for one of the porters in his warehouse, who was ordered to sleep on board, and see that nothing was stolen. Sim was directed to get into the carriage with us, and we went back to the house of the merchant. "Hookie!" almost screamed Sim, as we entered the elegant mansion. "Shut up, Sim! Don't open your mouth again!" I whispered to him. "Hookie!" replied he, in a suppressed tone.
Hookie!" shouted he, opening his mouth from ear to ear, while his fat face lighted up with an expression of delight, like a baby with a new rattle. "Are you going to let me go down stream, Sim?" I called to him, reproachfully, for he seemed to have more regard for his own safety than for mine.
"Sim!" said I, startling him with the sharpness of my tones. "Yes; I'm here, Buck! Hookie!" stammered he. "Mind what you're about!" "O, yes! I will!" "When I tell you, let go the oar, and pull in on this rope." "I'll help him," said Flora. "Don't you touch the rope, Flora. You may get dragged overboard." "What shall I do?"
"But where are the people we saw laughing and talking as she went by?" continued she, with a shudder. "A good many of them will never laugh and talk any more." "Hookie!" shouted Sim, as soon as he comprehended the nature of the disaster. "That's wus'n fallin' in the river." "Get out the sail, Sim!" I added, sharply. "What you want the sail for?" inquired he. "The wind ain't right for it."
I pulled steadily, and with just power enough to give me steerage-way; and when I reached the raft, I found I had made the passage in little more than two hours. "Hookie!" ejaculated Sim, with a stupid stare, as I ran the skiff up to the raft. "Catch the painter!" I called, throwing him the rope.
"No, no, Clarence," interposed poor Flora, her eyes filled with tears, as she came to my chair and put her arm lovingly around my neck. "Dear Buckland, I know you are innocent!" "So do I," exclaimed Emily. "Hookie!" ejaculated Sim Gwynn, who had been sitting in silence, with his eyes and mouth wide open, but rather nervous when the battle seemed to be going against me.
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