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Updated: May 21, 2025
While he hesitated the nixy spoke, called him by his name, and asked him why he was so sad. When the miller heard how friendly her tone was, he plucked up heart and told her how rich and prosperous he had been all his life up till now, when he didn't know what he was to do for want and misery.
She stretched out luxuriously in the long chair, throwing her arms above her head, and crossing her feet, which were dressed with "gun metal" stockings and shoes. Her hat was pushed awry, and wisps of hair fell at either side of her face. "Now, perhaps you'd like to go to your room," suggested Patty, at her wits' end what to do with such an unconventional person. "Nixy; I'm too comfortable here!
Carter in robbing the government, and ought to be in jail. Oh, you can't tell me anything about politics, and if I could see Dewey I would tell him to say nothing but 'nixy' to every proposition to mix him up. Now, all you boys come in to breakfast," and the old man tossed the boys toward the dining room door as though they were footballs. "Well, Uncle Ike, you have punctured our tire again.
"This is just the time to joke, old man," he said, when we reached it. "She made up her mind to leave, pronto! Why? Conscience said obey Monsieur, but heart said nixy! What's to do then? Start home quick, of course, before little heart gives old conscience the solar plexus! That's how I size it up!" "But I don't see anything to joke about," I said gloomily.
"Don't believe you could do that." "Can do. But the third trick is to flop over to their side and be like the town people myself." Petticoat laughed outright. "Nixy on that, Warble, my duck. You'd have to reduce." "I speck I should. Well, then the reform act for mine. I've got to do something, Pet, to keep amused and interested." "That's what I said. Have a party." "I will.
There was no light as yet but that of the moon in the parlour; the spinning-wheels too were silent; for stories were being told; one more marvellous than the other, of ghosts and goblins, of dwarfs and mountain-spirits, and naturally enough awful tales of the neighbouring nixy King, and of his three daughters who lived in the enchanted lake.
Many and many a time he sat at the waterfall where the Nixy was said to play the harp every midsummer night, but although he sometimes imagined that he heard a vague melody trembling through the rush and roar of the water, and saw glimpses of white limbs flashing through the current, yet never did he get a good look at the Nixy.
They sang these verses to a weird, haunting melody: "The wild-fowl are calling: come back to the lake! O nixies come back, or your proud hearts must break; The moonbeams are glancing, the fairies are dancing, Come back. The grey mists are rising! Beware, O beware! For though you are slender and though you are fair, Your treacherous waters, O nixy king's daughters, Can slay.
"Say, was it a w-w-wildcat?" bubbled forth Toby. "Or a big Virginia horned owl?" demanded Steve. Max shook his head to both questions. "Nixy, fellows, you've got another guess coming," he remarked, soberly. "Fact is, the eyes Toby saw staring at him through the bushes belonged to a half-grown boy, and a badly scared one at that!"
I've got to sweep the cobwebs out of the place where my brain ought to be even if it is empty, as my learned colleague avers." "I'll go," and Eunice jumped up. "I want a breath of fresh air. Come along, San?" "Nixy I've got to look over some papers in connection with my coming election as president of a big club."
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