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"But I don't think Auntie Helen's going to marry a auto man." "Why, Jimmy?" "Because everybody says she's going to get married to Mr. Davidson, and he's a commission man." Now, I am sure, my face did not flush. It may have paled. I tried to be composed. I reached for the melon dish and remarked, "Yes? And who is he? And really, who is your Auntie Helena, Jimmy, and what does she look like?"
Now the messenger in buying the pennygrabs had gabbled wildly to another boy of the sensational expenditures under way, and this boy, though incredulous, now came to a point in the alley from which he could survey the fed group. The remains of the whale of a melon were there to convince him. They were trifling remains, but they sufficed, and the six fuming halves of pennygrabs were confirmatory.
He didn't have to anchor his smokehouse to the center of gravity with a log chain, set a double-barreled bear trap in the donjon-keep of his hennery nor tie a brace of pessimistic bull-dogs in his melon patch, for the nigger preacher had not yet arrived with his adjustable morals and omnivorous mouth.
The head of the family stepped with his bare feet on the piece of melon, and sat down so quick that it made his head swim. It made him swim all over, and under, and everywhere. But if he sat down soon, he got up sooner. If there is one thing that a house cat should be taught, it is to sleep elsewhere than on the top stair. When he fell and struck the sleeping cat there was a crisis.
"Then on what have we got to exist till we can reach the shore?" I asked, with a feeling of serious anxiety. "Why," answered William, "we have biscuits and half a cheese at least we had half when we sailed, but it is rather gone and a few mangoes, and bananas, and plantains, and a melon or two, and some tea and coffee, and sugar.
He is useful, too, to the extent of his little power; will do anything, but loves gardening best, and still piques himself on his old arts of pruning fruit-trees, and raising cucumbers. He is the happiest of men just now, for he has the management of a melon bed a melon bed! fie! What a grand pompous name was that for three melon plants under a hand-light!
On account of the abrupt acclivity of both, this angle was almost acute, and the ravine between the two resembled a cavity out of which some great wedge had been cut, like a section taken from the side of a gigantic melon. It was in this re-entrant angle that the castaways found themselves, after descending the side of the dune, and where they had proposed spending the remainder of the night.
Why, the cultivation was n't large enough to hold the melon and pumpkin vines they travelled into the horse-paddock and climbed up trees and over logs and stumps, and they would have fastened on the horses only the horses were fat and fresh and often galloped about. And the stock!
"It's like this: I've told you how we came together, the five of us, including Jules and Monsieur le Comte de Lorgnes. Now we expect this venture, our first, to pan out handsomely. There'll be a juicy melon cut when we get to New York. There's a lot more I think you understand than the Montalais plunder to whack up on.
This is a land of wonderful fruits, and I eat in quantities pineapple, tamarind, papaw, guava, sweet-sop, star-apple, granadilla, hog-plum, Spanish-gooseberry, and pindal-nut. These are native, but there are also the orange, lemon, lime, shaddock, melon, fig, pomegranate, cinnamon, and mango, brought chiefly from the Spanish lands of South America.
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