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Updated: May 10, 2025
It was while smarting under these criticisms that the steward one morning in June brought him his letters. One was from Monteith Class of '9l a senior when Muggles was a freshman and was postmarked "Wabacog, Canada," where Monteith owned a lumber mill and where he ran it himself and everything connected with it from stumpage to scantling.
No one of the later Maxwells, it is true, had ever been able to fill the gap of a hundred years or more between the Clanworthys and the Maxwells, but a little thing like that never made any difference to Muggles or his immediate connections.
Soon the tongues of flame mounting skyward grew less in number; columns of black smoke took the place of the shower of sparks; the light flickering on the frightened tree-trunks began to pale; from the rugs and blankets the hot steam no longer rose in clouds. The crisis had passed! The pile was saved! Muggles had won!
What he needed was to get down to Nature and hug the sod, and if there wasn't any sod then he would grapple with whatever took its place. Muggles dropped his legs to the floor, straightened his back, beckoned to a servant, motioned for a telegraph blank exertion is tabooed at the Magnolia untelescoped a gold pencil hooked to his watch-chain and wrote as follows: "Thanks. Coming Tuesday."
"Why, the whole place would have gone if I hadn't " "You're quite right, Muggles," said Monteith. "Let up on him, boys. You worked like a beaver, old man. Sorry about the rugs one was an old Bokhara but that's all right of course you didn't stop to think." "Well, but, Monteith what's a rug or two when you have to save a pile of what's the lumber worth, anyhow?"
At 11 P.M. he left her temporarily in charge of one Muggles, the curled darling and easily most imposing clerk among all those employed in the big "emporium" of the frontier town. He felt safe. Such a character as Molly Fleming could never be attracted by such a person as that scented floor-walker, even if he did chance to have a small interest in the concern and reasonably good prospects.
"So you'd keep the blankets soaked, would you?" remarked Billy, winking at the others. "I certainly would." This came with a certain triumphant tone in his voice. "Learned that practising on his head," whispered Podvine. "Right you are, Poddy; but Muggles, suppose the mill caught first," chipped in Monteith. The mill was the apple of his eye.
Then he rose from his seat, reached for his hat and strolled out on the portico to take a look around before he turned in. Muggles's masterful grasp of a science of which his companions knew as little as they did of the Patagonian dialects came as a distinct surprise. What else had the beggar been picking up in the way of knowledge? Maybe Muggles wasn't such a goat, after all.
Now and then, as some part of the burning mass would collapse, a shower of sparks and smoke would obscure Muggles; then he could be seen brushing the live coals from his pajamas, darting here and there, shouting: "More water! More water! Here, on this end! All together now!" fighting his way with hand raised to keep the heat from blistering his face, a very Casabianca on the burning deck.
Jerry wanted to buy that swamp meadow next his place on Long Island and had been dickering with the old fellow who owns it all winter, telling him it would be a good place to raise cranberries if it was dug out and drained, and they had almost agreed on the price about twice what it was worth when down goes Muggles to spend the night and Jerry blabs it all out, and just why he wanted it, and the next morning Muggles, to clinch the deal and help Jerry, slips over to the hayseed and tells him how the Sunnybrook Club are going to buy Jerry's place, and how they wanted the swamp for a hatchery all true and that the hayseed oughtn't to wait a moment, but send word by HIM that the deal was closed, because the club-house being near by would make all the rest of his land twice as valuable; and the old Skeezicks winked his eye and shifted his tobacco and said he'd think about it, and now you can't buy that sink-hole for twenty times what it's worth, and the Sunnybrook is looking for another site nearer Woodvale.
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