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Updated: May 16, 2025
"I haven't the laste objection agin payin' my respects to the magistrate's paper, but somehow I don't like tastin' the priest's in a falsity." "Don't you know," said the Big Mower, "that with a magistrate's present, it's ever an' always only the Tistament by law that's used. I myself wouldn't kiss the mass-book in a falsity."
Frank bounced over on his other side. "That's it; you always side with them against me. They all know it. Anybody here feels free to borrow the mower and break it, or turn their hogs in on me. They know you won't care!" Marie hurried away to make his coffee. When she came back, he was fast asleep. She sat down and looked at him for a long while, very thoughtfully.
The multitude grow up, and are carried away, as grass is carried away by the mower. The parish-register tells when they were born, and when they died: "known by the ends of being to have been." We pass away, and leave nothing behind.
"Bill, go hitch up to the big mower," ordered Kurt. "We'll have to cut all around our field. Bring drinking water and whatever you can lay a hand on ... anything to fight fire!" Bill ran thumping away over the clods. Then it happened that Kurt looked toward his father.
He cares little for forms and ceremonies; is a good mower; wears a billycock which has passed through much tribulation we believe it was once the subject of a church meeting; can play cricket pretty well, and enjoys the game; is frank, candid, and speaks straight out; can say a good thing and knows when he has said it; has an above-board, clear, decisive style; is not a great scholar, and would be puzzled, like the generality of parsons, if asked how many teeth he had in his head, or who was the grandfather of his mother's first uncle; knows little of Latin and less of Greek, but understands human nature, and that, says the Clockmaker, beats scholarship; has been in America, which accounts for the nasal ring in his talk; is active, sanguine, free, and easy, and would enjoy either a ridotto or a fast; can utter lively, merry things in his sermons, and does not object sometimes to recognise the wisdom of Shakspere.
I was yet a boy, when one day a gentleman came into the lot where my father was superintending the in-gathering of his hay crop, and addressing himself to a mower in my father's employment, inquired whether he would assist him the following day. He replied, "Yes." "How is this," said my father; "are you not engaged to mow for me?" "O yes," said the man.
We sorter hate to smell our own hair singein'. We ain't on the prod, but we don't aim to be run off our own range, and that goes as it lies." He rose, flipping his cigarette through the open window, and inquired for freight. They were expecting a binder and a mower. These had not arrived. McHale looked at the date of his bill of lading, and stated his opinion of the railway.
The next morning Bunny was still breathing, but the lettuce was un-nibbled; he had not moved an inch, and he was trembling like a leaf. Then she sat herself down in the sun to watch him. Soon Bunny ceased to tremble. "Patrick," she called to the old man who was using the lawn mower, "is this little rabbit dead?" "Yes, miss, shure," taking the little thing gently in his hand.
"I'll write a little story about your trip and your arrest for the Gazette and I'll bet you'll have a lot of jobs offered you." "And until you do you can stay here. There's a little room up there," Mr. Jerry nodded toward his attic, "that would just about fit a boy of your size. Do you know anything about autos? Have you ever met a lawn mower?
An opening in the foliage gave a glimpse of the distant Burns's clover field. "Looks like a small Bear." "Woodchuck! That's our Woodchuck! That's the ole sinner that throwed Paw off'n the mower. Where's my bone-arrer?" and Guy went for his weapons. The boys ran for the fence of the clover field, going more cautiously as they came near.
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