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Updated: May 26, 2025
I told him that almost the skinniest human being I ever knew had been one of the largest eaters. I was speaking now of John Wesley Bass, the champion raw-egg eater of Massac Precinct, whose triumphant career knew not pause or discomfiture until one day at the McCracken County fair when suddenly tragedy dire impended.
He was the champion eater of the world, specializing particularly in eggs on the shell, and cove oysters out of the can, with pepper sauce on them, and soda crackers on the side. I regret to be compelled to state, however, that John Wesley is no more. At one of our McCracken County annual fairs, a few years back, he succumbed to overambition coupled with a mistake in judgment.
After recess, a new boy arrived, little Willie McCracken, whom we had seen on the plains, and known at Sutter's Fort, and he knew us as soon as he reached his seat and looked around. In a short time, I nudged Georgia, and asked her if I hadn't better roll him the little knot of dried apples that grandma had put in the basket for my lunch. She said, yes, if I wanted to.
Moreover, he let his goatee grow until it resembled the tail-feathers of an ancient sparrow and substituted for a once dapper business suit a reverence-inspiring affair of shiny alpaca. In fact, within a year after Caroline's catastrophic visit to the bookshop the only thing in it that preserved any semblance of being up to date was Miss Masters. Miss McCracken had followed in the footsteps of Mr.
They'd take a big man and tie his hands behind a tree, just like that big tree outside, and whip him with a rawhide and draw blood every whip. I know I was scared every time I'd hear the slave say, 'Pray, Master. "Once, when I was milking a cow, I asked Master Ousley, 'Master Ousley, will you do me a favor? "He said in his drawl, 'Of course I will. "'Take me to McCracken County, I said.
Cartwright and Major McCracken who made many sympathetic inquiries after the officers in the Brigade. We were now quartered in some old wooden huts, possibly constructed by the French; and though very comfortable inside they were hardly bomb-proof. At nights all the back areas round Ypres were heavily bombed and a lot of horses were killed every night and a certain number of men as well.
The lady whom he finally chose was a Miss McCracken, of Rochester, New York, with whom he lived happily for some years. At the battle of Cerro Gordo he was warned to be more careful of the bullets, but he replied, "Never fear; the bullet is not run that is to kill Martin Scott," and almost immediately fell from his horse pierced to the heart by a Mexican bullet.
I didn't even know where McCracken County was, but my sister was there. I wanted to find my sister. When I reached the house where my sister stayed, I went through the gate. I asked if this was the house where Mary Meriwether lived. Her mistress said, 'Yes, she's in the back. Are you the girl Mr. Meriwether's looking for?" My heart was in my mouth. It just seemed I couldn't go through the gate.
Before entering, however, Ernie, who was the patrol leader, asked four of the boys to return and watch the automobile. Division of the patrol with this in view was quickly arranged, and Ernie, Clifford Long, Harry, Gilbert, and Jerry McCracken proceeded into the cave.
Served him right. The idea of that man falling for a pretty adventuress! Of course he was never rich enough for her even though the shop paid well in those days." "But when I saw her." stammered Merlin, "that is, when I thought saw her, she lived with her mother." "Mother, trash!". said Miss McCracken indignantly. "She had a woman there she called 'Aunty', who was no more related to her than I am.
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