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Since I was wounded, about thirty-six years ago, I have been thinking over my life. My leg has been weak and my heart has been sorry. I feel that I have suffered because I have followed my Great Father’s order. I am glad I fought for the soldiers, for I think it was the right thing to do.
And she said it aloud, because it seemed that any voice, even her own, would be a comfort in that darkness. "WHAT ought to be directed? Who to?" asked the boy, suddenly and very feebly. "Oh," said Bobbie, "now you're better! Hold your teeth and don't let it hurt too much. Now!" She had folded the petticoat, and lifting his leg laid it on the cushion of folded flannel.
When dawn came it was snowing hard, and for a week they made poor progress with a bitter gale driving the flakes in their faces, while rations were cut down as the distance covered daily steadily lessened. Harding's leg was getting sore, but he did not mean to speak of this unless it was necessary.
"Have you ever seen her, then?" "Seen her," repeated John, beginning to rasp at his great square chin, "seen her, Barnabas, why, as to that I say, as to that ah! here we be, Barnabas," and John Barty exhaled a deep breath, very like a sigh of relief, "you can see from here as the poor old 'Hound' will soon be only tail not a leg to stand on.
He's got a pretty strong string round your father's leg, by what I hear, eh?" "My father never tells me anything about his affairs, sir." "Well, he shows some sense there. But other people find 'em out without his telling. He'll never have much to leave you: he'll most-like die without a will he's the sort of man to do it let 'em make him mayor of Middlemarch as much as they like.
The force of the explosion had thrown Seymour, from his advantageous position aft, far out into the water and away from the sinking ship. The contact with cold water recalled him to his senses at once; and with the natural instinct of man for life, he struck out as well as he might, considering his broken leg and wounded arm and weakened state.
She stood three or four more prods, and then, not being able to stand it any longer without expressing her feelings in some way, she unhooked one leg and fetched the Dwarf a kick on the side of the head that reminded him that it was about time for him to get into his own room and lock the door, and convinced him that there ain't a bit of exaggeration in the tough stories that they tell about the kicking powers of an army mule.
Isn't it about time you toed the line?" The King's Messenger shook his head. "No. It doesn't come my way." His eyes rested contemplatively on his outstretched leg. "Not very likely to either.... How d'you like the idea of joining up with the 'Great Silent' again after the flesh-pots and whatnot?" For the second time he had changed the conversation almost abruptly. Standish lit his pipe.
His ol' peg leg is goin' down to the gate o' hell to-night." Solomon's face had darkened with anger. There were deep furrows across his brow. Standing before Jack about three feet away, he drew out his ram rod and tossed it to the young man, who caught it a little above the middle. Jack knew the meaning of this. They were to put their hands upon the ram rod, one above the other.
Julian Ralph, a brilliant young newspaper reporter, wrote a long story in the New York Sun about a wonderful glass leg, which had been substituted for the natural one and did better work. The story had universal publication not only in the United States but abroad, and interested scientists and surgeons.
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