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"Doe' want 'ny canned peaches," said the frank Walter, moving back his chair. "G'-night." "Walter! It doesn't begin till about nine o'clock at the earliest." He paused, mystified. "What doesn't?" "The dance." "What dance?" "Why, Mildred Palmer's dance, of course." Walter laughed briefly. "What's that to me?" "Why, you haven't forgotten it's TO-NIGHT, have you?" Mrs. Adams cried. "What a boy!"
It fortunéd, out of the thickest wood A ramping lyon rushéd suddeinly, Hunting full greedy after salvage blood: Soone as the royall Virgin he did spy, With gaping mouth at her ran greedily, To have at once devourd her tender corse: But to the pray whenas he drew more ny, His bloody rage aswaged with remorse, And, with the sight amazd, forgat his furious forse.
As soon as the Ny, Po, and Ta rivers were crossed, each of which streams would have afforded an excellent defensive line to the enemy, all anxiety as to our passing around Lee's army was removed, and our ability to cross the North Anna placed beyond doubt.
"Purty soon Moller says: 'From the seventh circle I have come, drawn by the will of somebody that knows and loves me. It's a long way. Billions of miles off is ny new home, where I spend eternity writin' things that make what I writ on earth look like nothin', or some sich nonsense.
"It's a second-hand tin Lizzie," said Walter. "D'you know what that means? It means a flivver." "Yes, Walter." "Got 'ny 'bjections?" "Why, no, dear," she said, placatively. "Is it yours, Walter? Have you bought it?" "Me?" he laughed. "I couldn't buy a used wheelbarrow. I rent this sometimes when I'm goin' out among 'em. Costs me seventy-five cents and the price o' the gas."
I'll want good plain print: Solomon Rollin, Cappenter 'n J'iner, Hillsborough, NY soun's putty good don't it. 'Beautiful, I answered. 'I'll git a big lot on 'em, he said.
"But whut I been doin', sistah, whut I been doin'?" "You know." "I reckon I do, but I wan' see whethah you does er not." "You been gwine ovah to de wes' plantation, dat's whut you been doin'. You can' 'ny dat, you's been seed!" "I do' wan' 'ny it. Is dat all?" "Is dat all!" Lize stood aghast. Then she said slowly and wonderingly, "Brothah Simon, is you losin' yo' senses er yo' grace?"
The Po and the Ny are narrow little streams, but deep, with abrupt banks, and bordered by heavily wooded and marshy bottoms at the time we were there and difficult to cross except where bridged. The country about was generally heavily timbered, but with occasional clearings. It was a much better country to conduct a defensive campaign in than an offensive one.
As the corps advanced, the skirmishers of the enemy steadily withdrew, until they reached a large clearing, called Alsop's Farm, along the rear of which ran a small stream, the river Ny, about three miles north of Spottsylvania. Here the enemy was formed in force, with a line of strong earthworks.
A disgusted hardware dealer of middle age, one of those who hungered for Georgie's downfall, was thus driven back upon the sidewalk to avoid being run over, and so far forgot himself as to make use of the pet street insult of the year: "Got 'ny sense! See here, bub, does your mother know you're out?"
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