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Updated: June 2, 2025
Hughes hurt my eyes to make 'em well, Phyllie, and you wasn't here to see him do it and tell me how red they looked and if they had got any blue around the edges like a carbuncle. Roxy can't tell disease like you kin, and now you was away from 'em and didn't see the nice ones I have got in both eyes."
Slim, about to speak, changed his mind, and stared at her with parted lips. She saw suspicion grow in his face and resolve itself to certainty, helped to decision by the telltale color dyeing her cheeks. "Does the cellar stairway from the store connect with the kitchen cellar, Phyllie?" he asked. "Ye-es." He nodded, then laughed without mirth. "I reckon I can tell you, boys, who Mr.
I was pleading with him so that my voice began to tremble. "Please let me put my hand on your face, Phyllie, so if I kin git you to tell the truth to me, I kin feel if you cry," he said as he reached up and put one little hand that is getting white and weak against my cheek.
"Read the sickest part again, Phyllie, and then turn and read the medicine for it," he had just demanded when she fled. And for the rest of the afternoon I sat by him and went through all the different stages of smallpox until, feeling each one acutely as I did, it is a wonder I was not pock-marked.
"I know a explode that I can git you, Phyllie," said Lovelace Peyton, looking up from the bottle he was trying to get into his apron pocket, his attention having been caught by the word that interested his scientific mind.
"Not the kind Miss Phyllis wants, bug-doctor," the Idol answered with a laugh, as he filled his bag with tobacco that he keeps in a queer old jar which the Douglass grandfathers brought from England before the Revolution. "I kin git a 'splode that Phyllie wants," answered Lovelace Peyton indignantly. "Phyllie always wants what I git her, even squirms; don't you, Phyllie?"
"No, Phyllie," he answered in a queer, unlifelike way. "Please find blind eyes and read all about them to me." "Oh, they are not interesting," I said, and the lump rose so I could hardly breathe. "Let me read measles, if you don't think you will like mumps. Do you remember that experiment about cutting away a piece of the heart itself that the man tried? Let me read that again."
Again Roxanne and I hugged and choked, but this time I had to conquer the lump and answer him. "Indeed, indeed, Lovelace Peyton, I'm never going to leave you any more, only to go and get the things you want. Can't I go and get the charlotte russe for you now?" "No, Phyllie," he exclaimed, grasping with his strong little fingers my hand that lay on his pillow.
I'm a clam, and at your service, seh." "Then find out the truth about the knife." Yeager's eye chiselled into that of Keller. "Mind, I ain't going to help you bring trouble to Phyllie, and I ain't going to stand by and see it, either." The other smiled. "I don't ask it of you. What I want is to clear the boy." "Good enough," agreed Yeager, and led the way back.
"What could have happened, Phyllie? Do you reckon he fell off his hawss, and him a full-size man?" he scoffed. "Yes, but you don't know how Brill looked at me. I'm afraid." "Oh, Brill!" His voice held an edge of scorn, but none the less it concealed a real fear. He was making as much concession to it as to her when he added lightly: "Tell you what I'll do, Phyl.
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