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Updated: June 27, 2025
Folks don't look like wild creatur's for nothin'. Is'iah's got fox blood in him, an' p'r'haps 't is his misfortune. His own mother always favored the looks of an old fox, true's the world; she was a poor tool, a poor tool! I d'know's we ought to blame him same's we do. "I've always been a master proud woman, if I was riz among the pastures," Mrs. Peet added, half to herself.
She's so lonely, I think it's beautiful that he comes. I make out like I think he comes, too, and I always send him my love, and ask how his rheumatism is. I tell you, Martha don't dare smile when I do it. She don't even want to. And, don't you know, old Mrs. Peet sent me a Christmas present, too. A pair of mittens. She knit them herself. It was awful nice of her.
Peet watched her goods disappear with suspicious eyes, and clutched her bundle-handkerchief as if it might be all that she could save. Then she anxiously got to her feet, much too soon, and when I said good-by to her at the car door she was ready to cry.
Not a man of them but envied Bob Peet his privilege of going when he pleased to the lighthouse rock. For Captain January was not fond of visitors, and gave them no encouragement to come, Bob Peet being the single exception to the rule. The Captain liked Bob because he was not "given to clatter," and "knew how to belay his jaw."
New-York, April 25, 1804. What nice, pretty paper. I verily believe that it would not have entered into my head to write to you; but Peet or Peter just brought in a ream of paper so handsome looking, that it tempted me to write, and chose being generally uppermost in my mind, of course it will be addressed to chose, though, for aught that yet appears, it will suit as well quelque autre chose.
Peet, "this wrapper, and the pillers, and all." "Oh, let the wrapper be my present to you, Mrs. Peet!" "No, MA'AM!" said Mrs. Peet, firmly. And she told the neighbors, later, in the delightfully exciting afternoon and evening that followed her installation on the porch, that she wasn't an object of charity, and she and Mrs. Burgoyne both knew it. Mrs.
Peet to sit by me; it was a great pleasure to see her again. The brakeman seemed relieved, and smiled as he tried to put part of his burden into the rack overhead; but even the flowered carpet-bag was much too large, and he explained that he would take care of everything at the end of the car. Mrs.
She was for Opeta, the foreign competitor. A white-haired Australian woman, with a strong accent, favored Teaea, and when the Raratonga youth was winning, shouted to Teaea: "'It 'im 'arder, Ol' Peet! 'E's outa wind! Knock 'is shell hoff!" The Casino de Tahiti had two galleries, and in the topmost, at a franc, five sous each, sat the little gods, as with us.
Where all is sweet and quiet and ready to go to bed. Where is Twilight Land? Ah! that I cannot tell you. You will either have to ask your mother or find it for yourself. There I was in Twilight Land. The birds were singing their good-night song, and the little frogs were piping "peet, peet."
"Shrewsbury is a busy, pleasant place," I ventured to say by way of comfort, though my heart was filled with rage at the trickery of Isaiah Peet, who had always looked like a fox and behaved like one.
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