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Updated: June 21, 2025
Their meanness ought to be published far and wide." "You had better 'shut up, " said Captain Judkins, with great sternness. "I will not 'shut up, " he replied; "for this thing is perfectly outrageous.
Movement went on in the outer circle, and that, too, gradually stilled. The white herd had come to a stop, and the pall of yellow dust began to drift away on the wind. Jane Withersteen waited on the ridge with full and grateful heart. Lassiter appeared, making his weary way toward her through the sage. And up on the slope Judkins rode into sight with his troop of boys.
They're wild, an' likely to stampede at the pop of a jack-rabbit's ears. We'll camp right with them, en' try to hold them." "Judkins, I'll reward you some day for your service, unless all is taken from me. Get the boys and tell Jerd to give you pick of my horses, except Black Star and Night. But do not shed blood for my cattle nor heedlessly risk your lives."
The voice faded into the distance until it could not be heard above the sound of the guns. "Gee, Ah'm kind o' cut up 'bout that lady," said Chrisfield. "Well, ain't we saved her from the Huns?" "Andy don't think so." "Well, if you want to know what I think about that guy Andy I don't think much of him. I think he's yaller, that's all," said Judkins. "No, he ain't." "I heard the lootenant say so.
Chrisfield squinted at it through the boughs of the apple trees laden with apples that gave a winey fragrance to the crisp air. He was sitting on the ground, his legs stretched limply before him, leaning against the rough trunk of an apple tree. Opposite him, leaning against another tree, was the square form, surmounted by a large long-jawed face, of Judkins.
Another law requiring payment of an export tax on tobacco, then the principal crop of the Albemarle sections, as it was of Virginia, was evaded for many years by the settlers in this region. Governors Drummond and Stevens, and John Judkins, president of the council, must have known of this disregard of the laws, both on the part of the Yankee shippers and the Albemarle planters.
Ben Lee, talking with Judkins by the harness-room fire, supposes that Cyril was thinking of Alma in his sermon. "He always had a kind heart." But Judkins speaks of his suspicions of Everard as Alma's betrayer, alludes to his frequent visits to Mrs. Lee during her illness some months ago, and his constant meeting with Alma. Lee is convinced of Everard's guilt. "I'll kill him!" he cries furiously.
"Never mind, Chris; they won't do nothin' to ye," said Jenkins, grinning at him good-naturedly from the door. "Ah doan give a hoot in hell what they do," said Chrisfield again. He lay back in his bunk and looked at the ceiling. The barracks was full of a bustle of cleaning up. Judkins was sweeping the floor with a broom made of dry sticks.
The story opens on a grey October afternoon in the Isle of Wight, in the 'sixties. Alma Lee, the coachman's handsome young daughter, is toiling up a steep hill overlooking Chalkburne, tired and laden with parcels from the town. As she leans on a gate, Judkins, a fellow-servant of her father's, drives up in a smart dog-cart, and offers her a lift home.
"That's what he said, Judkie; that's what he said." "'An the more prisoners ye have, the less youse'll git to eat," chanted Judkins, making a triumphal flourish with his hand. Chrisfield groped for the cognac bottle; it was empty; he waved it in the air a minute and then threw it into the tree opposite him. A shower of little apples fell about Judkins's head. He got unsteadily to his feet.
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