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Updated: May 14, 2025
Ortigies forgits that I didn't mean to suggest that he was to be a member of the committee; I meant they should be gentlemen; consequently that bars him out and there wouldn't be no trouble." "I understand your sarcasm, Wade, but your words would leave you off the committee likewise; but may I ask what the members would ask him when they knocked at his door?"
Landlord Ortigies had lit an extra lamp and with it in hand, he led the way to the rear room, where as he stated, comfortable quarters were provided for the little one.
Ten minutes later, when he stole back into the room with the landlord to see whether everything was right with his child, she was found sunk in the sweet, dreamless slumber of infancy. The picture was so winsome as she lay with her cheek resting upon the rough pillow, that Ortigies stepped softly to the door and beckoned to his friends.
"Who lives in dere?" she asked, turning around and addressing the whole group who were laughingly watching her. "That's where I live," replied Ortigies. "Do you live all alone?" "Yes, my child." "Haven't you got any little girl like me?" "No; I'd give all I have in the world if I had." "Wouldn't you like to have me for your little girl?" "Indeed I would; will you be my little girl?"
It was too sulphurous, or too insipid or it lacked in that nebulous characteristic which may be defined as true Americanism. It looked as if the problem would never be solved, when Landlord Ortigies, taking the bull by the horns, appointed a committee of three to select a name, the others pledging themselves to accept whatever the committee submitted.
There, too, grazed the pony of Nellie Dawson, the horses of Ruggles and Bidwell and the three mules owned by Landlord Ortigies and Vose Adams. The latter were left to themselves, except when needed for the periodical journeys to Sacramento. The little drove constituted all the possessions of New Constantinople in that line.
"Let's see," growled Wade Ruggles, "Constantinople is in Ireland isn't it?" "Where's your eddycation?" sneered Ike Vose; "it's the oldest town in Wales." Landlord Ortigies raised his head and filled the room with his genial laughter. "If there was anything I was strong on when I led my class at the Squankum High School it was astronermy; I was never catched in locating places."
"Which the same being the case, I invite all to come forward and liquidate." Never was an invitation responded to with more enthusiasm. The grinning Ortigies set out a couple of bottles, intending as a matter of course to join in the celebration.
Wade of late had fallen into the habit of taking the lead in such discussions, and Landlord Ortigies was quite willing to turn over the honors of the chairmanship to the outspoken fellow.
Before she could fairly enter the place, her father, who was affectionately watching her, said: "I guess you would better not go in there, Nellie; it's growing late and is time you prepared for bed." "I'll fix a place for her," said Ortigies; "we ain't much on style here, but I can manage to make her comfortable." "But will it not discommode you?"
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