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Updated: May 5, 2025
At the end of half an hour the Piccadilly Tube was lined with sufficient explosive material securely rammed and tamped to ensure the permanent closing of the line. Still no Boche had been seen or heard. "Now, Howie," said Bertie the Badger, fingering the fuse, "what about it?" "About what, sirr?" inquired Howie, who was not quite au fait with current catch-phrases.
It was because he was so good and kind to them that he was that he was not Howie now. He was always thinking of people's comfort the comfort of people who had to work hard. From the time he went into his father's factory he had always been thinking up ways of making people more comfortable in their work.
The preceding passage is extracted from a long vindication of his own conduct, sent by Sir Robert Hamilton, 7th December, 1685, addressed to the anti-Popish, anti-Prelatic, anti-Erastian, anti-sectarian true Presbyterian remnant of the Church of Scotland; and the substance is to be found in the work or collection, called, "Faithful Contendings Displayed, collected and transcribed by John Howie."
Then it was not going to be cut out tonight! Along comes the little dog pawing at his muzzle. He stops in distress in front of the cigar-store. People pass and pay no attention to the dog there on the sidewalk. And then in the darkened theater her hands go out, for the door has opened and she sees her husband! Howie. There. Moving as he always moved! She fights back the tears that would blur him.
They are firing straight along the gallery now. I will return the compliment. Ouch!" "What's the matter, sirr?" inquired the anxious voice of Howie, as his officer, who had tried to fire round the corner with his left hand, gave a sudden exclamation and rolled over upon his side. "I must have been hit the first time," he explained. "Collar-bone, I think.
She couldn't have said just why she was waiting, unless it was that she was waiting because she could not go away. She was not wearing her black; she had a reason for not wearing it when she came on these trips, and the simple lines of her dark-blue suit and the smart little hat Howie had always liked on her, somehow suggested young and happy things.
"Like to know how I'll find you a seat when there ain't no seat," was the answer the whole big life of the world in between her and Howie! Upstairs, too, it was hard to find a place. And all those people seated there for them it meant only a few hours' silly entertainment! But after a moment a man directed her to a seat.
The pair scrambled back into their own tunnel, and the end of the fuse was soon recovered. Almost simultaneously three more revolver-shots rang out. "I thought I had fixed that Boche," murmured Bertie in a disappointed voice. "I heard him grunt when my bullet hit him. Perhaps this is another one or several. Keep back in the tunnel, Howie, confound you, and don't breathe up my sleeve!
Every nerve of her being was hurrying that bus on until that very anxiety made it seem it was Howie himself she would see if only she could get there in time. And being late, the downstairs at the theater was full. "Balcony only," said a man as she came in. "Oh, won't you find me a good seat?" Laura besought him.
And once Larkin had flashed past on horseback, Howie tearing along not far behind, it having come to their ears five minutes before that a cottage far away through the bush was opened, its occupants having come up by the night train. "When I grow up," said Muffie enviously, "I'll be a grocer's boy."
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