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Updated: June 23, 2025
"Of course," and here he saw an expression of real regret, almost worry, on her face, "of course it's bad for all of us when Hughie takes a dislike to any one." Hanson's sense of injury was inflamed. "But why the devil," he cried, "should Hughie's unreasoning cranks count with commonsense people? I can't understand," with wondering impatience, "why you all act like you do about that boy!"
"Your Uncle Hughie's a wonderful wise man, Elsie," she said vaguely; then, with a deep sigh, "I suppose it's wicked to be always wantin' to do things you ain't doin'; but I it ain't very bad to pretend you're doin' them, so long as you do the real things, is it?" Her color was rising, and the girl looked at her with a kind curiosity.
"I said," he bellowed through it, "that I've often wondered why all the books in the farmhouse are here upon your shelves." Adam sat up. "For God's sake, Kenny," he said. "Close the door. Where did you get that thing?" he demanded with a scowl. "It's Hughie's and the very sight of it was an inspiration." "Give it to me!" "On the contrary I intend to cure your deafness." Adam stared.
Dear knows where he'll be now," said Don, considering. "Like enough in the Big Swamp or in McLeod's beech bush. They're awful fond of beechnuts. But the dogs can track him, can't they?" "By jingo! I'd like to get him," said Don, kindling under Hughie's excitement. "Wait a bit now. Don't say a word. If Murdie hears he'll want to come, sure, and we don't want him.
The mother stroked Hughie's head softly, and while her tears fell on the brown curls, said to him, "You would not be afraid to trust your mother, Hughie, and our Father in heaven loves us all much more than I love you." And with that Hughie was content. "Now let us sing one more hymn," said his mother. "It's my choice."
Partly for this reason she had yielded to Hughie's eager pleading, backing up the invitation brought by Thomas himself and delivered in an agony of red-faced confusion, that Hughie should be allowed to go home with him for the night.
"Oh, Ranald," said Tom, almost weeping, "I didn't mean to I never thought I'm awfully sorry." "Oh, pshaw!" said Ranald, who was taking off Hughie's shirt preparatory to wringing it, "I know. Besides, it was you who pulled us out. You were doing your best, Don, of course, but we would have gone under the jam but for Tom."
It proved to be Hughie's last visit to Antrim. His going out of life was a mystery, and as the years went by tradition accorded him an exit not unlike that of Moses. I was amongst those the current of whose lives were supposed to have been changed by the touch of his hand on that last visit. Anna alone knew the secret of his alleged sainthood. She was the author and publisher of it.
"But he could not, even if he did want to." "I hope I did not say that," said his mother, smiling at the eager and earnest young face. "No, auntie," said Harry, taking up Hughie's cause, "not exactly, but something very like it. You said that Pharaoh could not possibly have acted in any other way than he did." "Yes, I said that." "Not even if he wanted to?" asked Hughie. "Oh, I did not say that."
His heart had ached for his mother, for the gentle, feeble-minded sister, who had transferred the interest in life, which keeps body and soul together, from her colorless existence to that of her brother. Hughie was the romance of her gray life: what Hughie said, what Hughie thought, Hughie's wife oh, jealous thought, only to be met by prayer! But later on joy of joys Hughie's children!
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