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Of me and m-my work. I exult in my w-work. L-like Mr. Whitman, I celebrate myself. I p-point with pride. What think you, gentlemen, of to-day's paper in honor of which I have t-taken my few drinks?" "If you mean the Territon story," growled Edmonds, "it's rotten." "Precisely. I thank you for your g-golden opinion. Rotten. Exactly as intended."
"Yes, there are," she remarked; "but no one would care about them here, and so I'm not going to make a fuss. You don't want to make a fuss over people you l-like." "You don't," said Lucia. "You are like Francis Barold in one way, but you are altogether different in another.
The child came at his voice, and stood looking up at him silently. "H-how old be you, Cynthy?" "Nine," answered Cynthia, promptly. "L-like the country, Cynthy like the country better than the city?" "Oh, yes," said Cynthia. "And country folks? L like country folks better than city folks?" "I didn't know many city folks," said Cynthia.
"Sure they are," declared Bandy-legs, "and mebbe we'll be able to find out whether it was a wildcat Toby saw, a panther, or one of those awful Injun devils they say come down here from the Canada woods once in a long time." "All right, you c'n laugh all you l-like," the boy who stammered said, obstinately; "but wait and s-s-see what Max says."
He only broke his silence once, in fact, when Cynthia called his attention to a large poster of some bloodhounds on a fence, announcing the fact in red letters that "Uncle Tom's Cabin" would be given by a certain travelling company at the Opera House the next evening. "L-like to go, Cynthy?" "Oh, Uncle Jethro, do you think we can go?" "Never b'en to a show hev you never b'en to a show?"
"C-Cynthy," he said, putting his hand over hers on the table, "I want you to do something for me er for me," he repeated, emphasizing the last word. "I'll do anything in the world for you, Uncle Jethro," she answered; "you know that. What what is it?" "L-like Mr. Merrill, don't you?" "Yes, indeed." "L-like Mrs. Merrill like the gals don't you?" "Very much," said Cynthia, perplexedly.
"See, there he is making a ship!" "Y-you read it, Cynthy?" asked Jethro, a little anxiously. No, Cynthia hadn't. "L-like it, Cynthy l-like it?" said he, not quite so anxiously. Cynthia looked up at him with a puzzled expression. "F-fetched it up from the capital for you, Cynthy for you." "For me!"
The child came at his voice, and stood looking up at him silently. "H-how old be you, Cynthy?" "Nine," answered Cynthia, promptly. "L-like the country, Cynthy like the country better than the city?" "Oh, yes," said Cynthia. "And country folks? L like country folks better than city folks?" "I didn't know many city folks," said Cynthia.
The child came at his voice, and stood looking up at him silently. "H-how old be you, Cynthy?" "Nine," answered Cynthia, promptly. "L-like the country, Cynthy like the country better than the city?" "Oh, yes," said Cynthia. "And country folks? L like country folks better than city folks?" "I didn't know many city folks," said Cynthia.
"Now point exactly to the spot where, as you say, you saw the staring eyes," Max went on. "T-t-that's easy done. S-s-see where that bunch of wintergreen p-p-pokes up l-like the tuft of an Injun's war bonnet r-r-right there it was, Max." "All right," remarked the other, quickly. "Now, the rest of you just hold your horses a bit and give me a chance to look around."
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