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Updated: June 25, 2025
Well, I'll own up that it wasn't my choice. I'm not very eager about burying myself alive, and if ever there was a cemetery, it's the town of Oakdale. My pater was the guilty party." "Oh, your father sent you here?" "Correct. I would have chosen Wyndham, but Newbert's old man sent him down there, and my governor thought we should be kept apart in future." "Newbert? Who's Newbert?"
E. E. Newbert, Benedict F. Maher, Samuel C. Manley, Charles S. Hichborn, all of Augusta; ex-Governor Oakley C. Curtis, of Portland; Governor-elect Frederick H. Parkhurst, of Bangor; U. S. Senator Hale, opposed but finally voted for the Federal Suffrage Amendment. When the fourth volume of the History of Woman Suffrage closed in 1900 it left the Maryland association just eleven years old.
No, I won't bathe this morning; haven't got the nerve for a cold plunge, and a warm one might fix me so I'd catch more cold. Just you make yourself comfortable as you can while I'm getting into my duds." Three times while dressing Herbert was compelled to sit down to rest, and Newbert declared that his friend seemed to be pretty nearly "all in."
Dade Newbert was making some remarks that would not look well in print. Captain Eliot had instructed his players to abandon the use of signals for the time being, and to bat and run bases wholly as their judgment might dictate, and this sudden change threatened totally to demoralize the Wyndhamites.
"If you know so much, why don't you tell it? If you know anything that amounts to anything, you'll tell it unless you're crooked yourself." That cut deeply, and Springer choked back further heated words which were boiling to his lips. What right had he to rail against Newbert?
"Cigarettes don't taste good, and they raise the merry dickens with this old cough of mine. I've got a beastly headache, and I suppose I ought to be in bed, but I've got to go down to the postoffice. Expect a letter from Newbert to-night." "So you're corresponding with him, are you?" said Roy, wiping his greasy hands on some cotton waste. "Sure. Why not? We were chums, you know."
Believing this was the program, Newbert whipped over a beautiful straight ball for a called strike. But Nelson did not let that handsome one pass; it was just the kind he liked, and he fell on it with great glee, smashing a liner into the outfield, between right and center.
"What are you talking about, old fel? Why, everybody dies here nights at nine o'clock; there's not a thing doing after that. It's the most forsaken, dismal place imaginable after that hour. I'm dying of dry rot, that's what's the matter." He finished with a cough that seemed to wrack him from head to feet. "You're sick," said Newbert, with a show of sympathy.
"Yes, he boards here," answered the woman in a mechanical tone of voice; "but he isn't up yet." "Ho, ho!" laughed Newbert. "Isn't up? Well, that's like him; won't pull himself away from the mattress until he has to. He's a luxurious brat." "I'm afraid Mr. Rackliff may not be feeling very well this morning," said the woman. "He has a very bad cold and coughs terribly.
"You haven't had any breakfast." "Don't want any. Haven't had an appetite for three days. I caught this rotten cold riding a motorcycle back here from Clearport after the game last Saturday. I wouldn't mind if this cough didn't tear me so." "It's tough," said Newbert. "Can I help you? Going to take a dip?" "Boo!
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