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Updated: May 24, 2025
It was a somber night, but he felt his way along the field fence to the line fence and climbed that into the road that was visible as a less intense darkness on the black darkness of the grass. Yan walked on up the middle cautiously. His heart beat violently and his hands were cold. It was a still night, and once or twice little mousey sounds in the fence corner made him start, but he pushed on.
"I shall never see you in the future without it. But wouldn't it be necessary to vary the colour at times?" "Oh! Yes to match things," seriously. "I couldn't wear a pink and blue one with this " glancing over the smoky mousey thing " or paillettes." "Oh, no not paillettes," he agreed almost with gravity, the harsh laugh having ended. "One couldn't imagine the exact colour in a moment.
There was, he remembered, a short cut to the precipice through a green narrow path to the right. Without a moment's hesitation he galloped down it. Buttar, divining his object, followed. The rest, not seeing where they had gone, fancied that they had turned the clump, and continued the race. Mousey, Ernest's pony, behaved magnificently.
But I've been reading; and I've made to you it may seem silly to call it a discovery, but to me it's the greatest discovery I've ever made: that people are just people, all of them that the little mousey clerk may be a hero, and the hero may be a nobody that the motorman that lets his beastly car spatter mud on my nice new velvet skirt may be exactly the same sort of person as the swain who commiserates with me in his cunnin' Harvard accent.
Trevalyon until we reach the Hall of 'Haughton, when some one else will go in for monopoly of me." "Yes, you poor dear thing, he will;" and she tittered; "but when the cat is away mousey can play; consider me asleep over my novel." The absurdity of her remark struck Trevalyon so forcibly that he could not restrain a laugh. "I don't believe you pity me one bit," said Mrs.
"If you do," Tom had said, "I shall never see you again: they will set every one about the place to watch you, like so many cats after one poor little white mousey, and on the least suspicion, one way or another, you will be gobbled up, as sure as fate, before you can get to me to take care of you." Letty looked up at him gratefully. "But what could you do for me if I did?" she asked.
"Why, Nellie Murray and Dickson have been thick for " "Have they?" Nuggan, in his turn, interrupted. "And you think Dickson has time for any one now since Yaller-head went out to Barellan? I know, I do. I don't tell no fairy tales. No more than when I said it was strange you being the only one at the Flat who wasn't sandy or mousey in the hair. I don't make no error.
These were gathered up, and filled the great basket. "There," said he, triumphantly, "don't them smell mousey?" They did, certainly; they savored as strongly of mice as Tom's question of bad grammar. "And don't foxes catch mice?" demanded Tom, confidently. "Yes, but I don't see how that's going to catch the fox," I said. "Well, look here, then, I'll show ye," said he.
And the mousey smell of the old piano fairly jerked the dogs to its senile old ivory keyboard. Cocking their ears to its quavering treble notes, snorting their nostrils through its gritty guttural basses, they watched Flame's facile fingers sweep from sound to sound. "Oh, what a glorious lark!" quivered Flame. "What a a lonely glorious lark!"
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