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Updated: May 14, 2025
Must be back in Lake City for supper," replied Levine, tying up his horse. The luncheon was a success. Lydia was delighted to put her hand to cooking again, and while Miss Towne set the table, John chatted with both of them of his Washington experiences. He rode away immediately after he had finished eating. Miss Towne wiped the dishes thoughtfully.
Once more Lydia came to her feet. "Oh, Mr. Levine," she exclaimed, "don't put all the blame on Billy! Really, it's my fault. He wouldn't have done it if I hadn't agreed that it was right.
"Yes," said the Indian, tensely, "and though Levine wasn't there he was just as much my father's murderer as if he'd fired the shot. Of course, nothing was ever done by the authorities. It was hushed up as an Indian brawl. But my sister, she was twenty then, she found out about Levine and she came in and set fire to his house one night, thinking she'd burn him to death.
The forces against him were not going to lie down, defeated by his election. But after the fashion of American elections, there were no protests or quarrels afterward. The town settled immediately to its old routine and Levine was dropped from the front pages of the newspapers.
"When you were just a little tot," said Levine at last, "you were full of gumption and did your own thinking. And I've been glad to see you keep the habit. Always make your own decisions, dear. Don't let me or any one else decide matters of conscience for you. 'To thine own self be true and it must follow as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man. Eh, little girl?"
Leon, whose culture is certified by our leading university, what do you think of this latest portrait of the Jew?" "I don't know, I haven't read it!" replied Raphael apologetically. "No more have I," murmured the table generally. "I wouldn't touch it with a pitchfork," said Miss Cissy Levine. "I think it's a shame they circulate it at the libraries," said Mrs. Montagu Samuels.
"Don't you dare to say such things about my father," shrieked Margery. "He was awful good to Dad and me about a money matter," protested Lydia. "Aw, all of us men are good to you, Lyd," said Kent impatiently. "You're that kind. Being good to you don't make a man a saint. Look at Levine. He's got a lot of followers, but I'll bet you're the only person he's fond of."
The old man started and a gleam of excitement shot into his eyes while Meggy, seeming to share his emotion, crept closer to him. "Peter Levine wants you to sell," he repeated eagerly, then relaxed once more into his drawl, though his eyes reflected a strange inward turmoil. "Listen, Son," he said. "Ef you let that snake in the grass argy you into sellin', you're a bigger fool 'n I take you to be.
It was the last week in August when John Levine was summoned before the commission. Lydia and Amos were summoned with him. Lydia was frightened, Amos was irritable and sullen by turns after the summons finally came. They were due at the hearing at nine o'clock and arrived a little late. Amos had refused to be hurried.
Louis Levine in his excellent monograph on "The Labor Movement in France," "is the poverty of French syndicalism.
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