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Updated: June 6, 2025
Why look'st thou hither, Of human pain not weary, With mischief-loving, godly flash-glances? Not murder wilt thou, But torture, torture? For why ME torture, Thou mischief-loving, unfamiliar God? Ha! Ha! Thou stealest nigh In midnight's gloomy hour?... What wilt thou? Speak! Thou crowdst me, pressest Ha! now far too closely! Thou hearst me breathing, Thou o'erhearst my heart, Thou ever jealous one!
To be led out of his stall at "midnight's solemn hour" and harnessed was more than George's equine reasoning could fathom. The harnessing was a weird and wonderful operation. Caleb's trembling fingers were all thumbs.
You must let me do that much." "It will help a great deal. I'm not sure that I ought to let you do even that," demurred Dorothy. "Of course you ought," Jane said sturdily. "You must mind Dad, you know. He depends on you to look after Midnight's welfare. This is the largest, nicest stall in the stable. Now you must see your saddle. It's Mexican and almost like mine.
"The secret of 'Midnight's' identity is capitally kept, and comes as a surprise to the reader." Daily Graphic. "Readers in quest of an exciting and cleverly-constructed story should make a note of Mr. Scott's tale of Australian adventure."
"And 'oo might you be and what?" he questioned, beckoning me nearer with a motion of the kettle. "One who has lost his way " "In silver buttons an' a jerry 'at hum! You're a young nob, you are, a swell, a tippy, a go that's what you are! Wherefore and therefore I ask what you might be a-doing in this here wood at midnight's lone hour?" "I am lost "
Aloud he said: "One of Zurich's ranches, isn't it? I saw ZK burned on the gateposts." He passed his hand along Midnight's sweaty back for possible bruise or scald; he unfolded the Navajo saddle blanket and spread it over the saddle to dry.
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