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Updated: June 20, 2025
On deck, watching the rugged silhouette of the city disappear into the mists, were Dan DeMille and Mrs. Dan, Peggy Gray, "Rip" Van Winkle, Reginald Vanderpool, Joe Bragdon, Dr. Lotless and his sister Isabel, Mr. and Mrs. Valentine the official chaperon and their daughter Mary, "Subway" Smith, Paul Pettingill, and some others hardly less distinguished.
He laid his hand heavily on Joel's shoulder. "Well, he seems to be better now, so I'll take him and t'other one along of me, marm, if you say so. Ye see, Mis' Pettingill told me to come up there sometime, 'cause she's got a lot o' rags ben a-makin' quilts, she said, all winter, and I laid out to go to-day, so here I be, on my way." "Whickets!" shouted Joel, the last tear gone. "Come on, Dave.
No one was killed, fortunately; though many were injured. The platform was almost torn to pieces. But proudly erect among the falling timbers stood Pettingill, his face flashing with wild triumph; and he shouted: "If I'm any judge of pyrotechny, THAT rocket has went off."
Pettingill was no imitator, but he created an effect which was superbly in keeping with the period he had chosen. Against it the rich costumes, with their accompaniment of wigs and powdered hair, shone out resplendent. With great difficulty the artist had secured for Monty a costume in white satin and gold brocade, which might once have adorned the person of Louis himself.
Suddenly Brewster remembered that Pettingill had spoken of the Prestons and expressed a fleeting wish that he might be with them in the Latin Quarter. "With Pettingill to follow, I suppose," he said, icily. "It would certainly give you more privacy." "And Mrs. Dan more opportunities," she retorted as he dropped back toward the others. The artist instantly took his place.
Valentine, with Brewster and Pettingill, walked over to the Scala and heard again the last two acts of Aida. But the audience was different, and the applause. The next day at noon the chauffeurs from Paris reported for duty, and five gleaming French devil-wagons steamed off through the crowd in the direction of Venice.
And so it was that Pettingill and a corps of decorators soon turned the rooms into a confusion of scaffoldings and paint buckets, out of which in the end emerged something very distinguished. No one had ever thought Pettingill deficient in ideas, and this was his opportunity. The only drawback was the time limit which Brewster so remorselessly fixed.
They had rarely spoken since the day of the ride, but Monty noticed with happiness that she had on several occasions avoided Pettingill. "I thought we had given up fairyland when we left the lakes, but I believe you carry it with you," she said. "The trouble with this," Monty replied, "is that there are too many people about. My fairyland is to be just a little different."
No eagle soared, but, on the contrary, that ordinary proud bird buried its head in the grass. The people were dissatisfied. They made sarcastic remarks. Some of them howled angrily. The aged man who had before spoken said, "No, Reuben, you evidently don't understand pyrotechny." Pettingill boiled with rage and disappointment. "You don't understand pyrotechny!" the masses shouted.
One of these days, if you can repay me, well and good. If not, I can afford to give it. Your voice may make your fortune some day. And, now, Mrs. Scates, I've got some work for you. Mrs. 'Zekiel Pettingill " "She that was Huldy Mason," broke in Mrs. Scates, "she was just the nicest girl in town." "Yes," assented Quincy, "she's going to have an addition to her family "
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