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I guess now you see there's nothin' to do but for us to get married don't you?" "Oh! Oh! Oh!" wailed Miss Parker, and burst into tears. Caleb groaned. "Git dap!" he shouted to the horse. "No use cryin', Hannah. Might's well grin and bear it. The joyful bridal party'll now proceed." But the horse refused to proceed, and his driver, peering forward, dimly saw a black barrier in front of him.

"That's it, that's it, Injin," interrupted Jacques, energetically; "your wits are always jumpin'. By crosin' over to Duck River, we can start at a point five or six miles above the lower fall, an' as it's thereabouts he must cross, we'll be time enough to catch him. If he tries the lake, the other party'll fix him there; and he'll be soon poked up if he tries to hide in the bush."

Wilson, his brothers, and Green take your dog and search in the pine-barren. I'll take my men and my dogs and cross the railroad. The signal of any discovery will be three shots fired in quick succession. The gathering-place'll be this house, where a member of the discovering party'll meet the other parties and bring 'em to the discovery.

She led him into a room too small for dancing, used ordinarily by Miss Amy Rennsdale's father as his study, and now vacant. For a while there was silence; but finally Marjorie pointed to the window and said shyly: "Look, Penrod, it's getting dark. The party'll be over pretty soon, and you've never danced one single time!" "Well, I guess I know that, don't I?"

"That's it, that's it, Injin," interrupted Jacques energetically; "yer wits are always jumpin'. By crossin' over to Duck River, we can start at a point five or six miles above the lower fall; an' as it's thereabouts he must cross, we'll be time enough to catch him. If he tries the lake, the other party'll fix him there; an' he'll be soon poked up if he tries to hide in the bush."

Win wanted to know. She expected the answer to be "man," but Lily did not seem to hear. Her face looked dreamy. "It's the loveliest house where the party'll be," she said. "'Tain't the artist's own. It's some relation's that's lent it for the summer while they're away at the seashore. I bin there. It's in the Fifties, just off Fift' Av'noo.

Burdick shook his head sadly. "It ain't politics," he said. "You'll split the party; then the party'll turn and split you." And later, as they were separating, Scarborough to drive to Saint X, Burdick to go back to Marshaltown, he said: "I'll help all I can in a quiet way. But I hope you've got your cyclone cellar dug." Scarborough laughed. "I haven't been digging a cyclone cellar.

And so it passed through th' undherwurruld that th' color line was not to be dhrawn anny more, an' Hogan says that almost anny time he ixpicts to see a black face peerin' through a window an' in a few years I'll be takin' in laundhry in a basement instead iv occypyin' me present impeeryal position, an' ye'll be settin' in front iv ye'er cabin home playin' on a banjo an' watchin' ye'er little pickahinnissies rollickin' on th' ground an' wondhrn' whin th' lynchin' party'll arrive.

"There! haven't I managed it capitally!" exclaimed Lucy, as she reentered her sister's room after her ride; "but the bother of it is, I've promised to go round next Saturday, and bring not only Berintha, but Elizabeth Betsey, and her twins! Won't it be horrible! However, the party'll be over, so I don't care."

"Party?" said Norton, "what about the party? It won't snow in here. Pink. What are you thinking of? The party'll be all the merrier. I tell you, it feels like Christmas." "But will they come, through all the storm?" "They'd come, if the hailstones were as big as eggs," said Norton. "You never saw one of grandmother's Christmas trees, Pink; and they never did anywhere else.