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Updated: May 17, 2025
"She'll be fittin' an' good by mornin'." The old man did not reply he only sang a low melody and smoothed her forehead. It was ten o'clock, and now she lay on the old man's lap asleep from exhaustion. A cricket began chirping in the fireplace, under a hearth-brick. "What's that, Pap?" asked Shiloh half asleep. "That's a cricket, Pet," smiled the old man.
Glynn was saying the stereotyped thing in the stereotyped way, without realizing that it was nothing but sacerdotal pap, little adapted to an intelligent soul. What was suited to Lewis was not fit for her. And yet her baby's death had served to dissipate somewhat the immediate discontent which she felt with her husband.
If we live in the Nineteenth Century, why should we not enjoy the advantages which the Nineteenth Century offers? Why should our life be in any respect provincial? If we will read newspapers, why not skip the gossip of Boston and take the best newspaper in the world at once? not be sucking the pap of "neutral family" papers, or browsing "Olive Branches" here in New England.
As she sat deliberating as to what course of action would be the wisest, a sudden commotion arose among the children playing on the deck of the shanty boat. The dog began to bark furiously. "Mammy, here comes Pap," the oldest child cried. The tired girls could see that a sailboat was being anchored near the shore.
Dave works on Barnes's place. And he kin purt' nigh make a full hand, too. Dave's purt' nigh tall as your pap! He's purt' nigh growed up Dave is!
Late hours too much for you, I reckon. Come on now tell Pap everything. Ease off your heart. It's wonderful what crying does for the nervous system. I laid out on a prairie one night when I was about your age and just naturally bawled. You'd 'a' thought I was a baby steer, hanged if you wouldn't 'a' thought so. It's the fight scared you plumb to pieces.
"I don't believe it," she snapped, "and I'll hold you to that bet, sure's my names Briggs." But the next day she gave them the allotted portion. That evening when Pap Briggs knocked the ashes from his pipe and rose from his seat in Billings' store, he said, "Billings, have you got some mainly fresh eggs eggs you kin recommend?" "Yes, I have," said Billings, with a grin.
At the first glance Mathieu had detected that the child was one of those who are fed on pap, stuffed for economy's sake with bread and water, and fated to all the stomachic complaints of early childhood.
They paid pap th' money last night, an' made 'im promise t' give possession 'fore t'morrow night. Three hundred dollars! Th' old woman took it out of 'er stockin'." "Three hundred dollars!" Lizzie Farnshaw repeated, whirling her horse about suddenly at the mention of a sum of money which ran into hundreds. She looked at the boy enviously.
"And won't they hurt pap's cow-critters, neither?" "No, indeed. It was all a mistake." "I I didn't know there was no war goin' on," remarked the lad, as he sent an intelligent dog he had with him after the straying animals. "Me an' pap we lives away over yonder on t'other side of the mountain. An' we don't never hear no news. I was plum skeered when I seen all them ossifers.
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