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Updated: May 3, 2025
Even the children seemed to understand that the one unpardonable sin was to let the blind boys on the porch know that they were the objects of any sort of interest. One day Mazie Sanborn came. She brought a new book for Mrs. McGuire to read an attention she certainly had never before bestowed on John McGuire's mother.
"Instead of standing by your own strike in Greenboro, you quit and come here to work in McGuire's the minute you got a chance," said Nahum Beals, sullenly, and Sargent responded, with his unrelaxing laugh, "I left enough strikers for the situation in Greenboro; don't you worry about me." "I think he done quite right to quit the strike if he got a chance to work," Joseph Atkins interposed.
McGuire's eyes were anxious. "I'm sure he will when he understands." "Then listen," proposed Mrs. McGuire eagerly. "I'll get my John out on to the back porch to-morrow mornin'. That's the only place outdoors I CAN get him he can't be seen from the street there, you know. I'll get him there as near ten o'clock as I can.
"I wint to McGuire's wake las' week. They gave him a dacint sind-off. No porther. An' himsilf looked natural, as fine a corpse as iver Gavin layed out. Gavin tould me so himsilf. He was as proud iv McGuire as if he owned him. Fetched half th' town in to look at him, an' give ivry wan iv thim cards. He near frightened ol' man Dugan into a faint.
An' I want 'em to get some of them bunion spoons." "BUNION spoons!" "Yes when you eat soup out of them two-handled cups, you know. Or maybe you don't know," she corrected herself, at the odd expression that had come to Mrs. McGuire's face. "But I do. Mrs. Professor Hinkley used to have 'em. They're awful pretty an' stylish, too.
In Mrs. McGuire's little house there was nothing to disturb the reading now, for the minister came no more, but the joyousness had all gone from Mary's voice, and Mrs. McGuire found herself losing all interest in Christian's struggles as she looked at Mary's face. Once she saw the minister pass and she beat upon the window with her knitting needle, but he hurried by without looking up.
But it's likely ivery country has its own ways." Phil knew very little of Ireland, and did not fully understand Mrs. McGuire's philosophical remarks. Otherwise they might have amused him, as they may possibly amuse my readers. I cannot undertake to chronicle the conversation that took place between Phil and his hostess.
Raidler returned the money to his pocket. The doctor immediately entered McGuire's room, and the cattleman seated himself upon a heap of saddles on the gallery, ready to reproach himself in the event the verdict should be unfavourable. In ten minutes the doctor came briskly out. "Your man," he said promptly, "is as sound as a new dollar. His lungs are better than mine.
McGuire had secured it from the outside with a clothes-line prop and a horse nail. The minister came and tried it, but Mrs. McGuire's work held good. Then the absurdity of the position struck them both, and the little house rang with their laughter laughter that washed away the heartaches of the dreary days before. The minister's reserve was breaking down.
McGuire's news of the blinding of John McGuire was not three days old before a full account of the tragedy from beginning to end was flying from tongue to tongue an account that would have surprised no one so greatly as it would have surprised John McGuire himself. To Susan, Dorothy Parkman came one day with this story.
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