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What he was to do must be done surely. Baxter didn't count, wasn't in the back of his head. There were plenty of willing hands to pick up Baxter and his men. Then a thing happened which, if I had not seen it, I would never have believed possible.
"How glad I am," Charlotte said, soon after her arrival, standing by a window with kind Mrs. Catesby, "to come down here where it is spring. I could never have borne it to put Granny away under the snow. She didn't like the snow, though she never said so. Are those camellias down by the hedge? Oh, may I go out and pick some for Granny?"
"Why, if I was to bring my little wife to that flat of ours, Clara, or any other kind further down-town that she'd want to pick out for herself, I think my mother would just walk on her hands and knees to make things pleasant for her.
It became James's duty to take the command, and to give the word. Loop-holes were speedily cut in the walls. "Be ready, friends; pick off the leaders, each of us those more immediately in front as we stand. Do not throw a shot away. Fire!" Three of the blacks were seen to fall to the ground, the rest ran back in disorder, two of them wounded.
He thought of this now, and then he thought with shame of how he had bragged and boasted just before the fight. What if he had lost? He resolved that he would never again brag or boast. But he also made up his mind that if any one should pick a quarrel with him, he would show that he wasn't afraid. It was getting late in the afternoon when Johnny finally felt rested enough to go on.
"We shall have to hurry then," whispered Betty. "They'll be here any minute." "On second thought," said Madeline, "I don't believe I can pick out my own horse. It's inky dark here under the trees." Madeline had ridden all her life but she seldom went out at Harding, and so hadn't a regular mount, like most of the other Moonshiners. "Of course you can, Madeline," scoffed Betty.
That morning at the first flush of dawn she had gone into her garden to pick the choicest vegetables, which she placed in a basket among banana-leaves and flowers; then she had looked along the bank of the river for the pakó which she knew the curate liked for salads. Putting on her best clothes and without awakening her son, she had set out for the town with the basket on her head.
Finally he had to work lying down on one elbow, swinging his pick over his head with the other arm in a way a miner alone could have used it. Occasionally the boy called the putter came by, shoving a rolley or little band-waggon before him. On to this the full corve was lifted and the empty one left in its place.
Several voices sounded from the porch in excited talk, among them Taterleg's, proving that he was sound and untouched. His uneasiness gone, Lambert stood a little while in front, well out in the dark, trying to pick up what was being said, but with little result, for people were arriving with noise of heavy boots to learn the cause of the disturbance.
"I'd go myself," was her reply. "I'd trust myself to pick out things, and it might give the girls ideas to go traipsing round buying pants and men's fixings." When she was gone Maurice lay in a pleasant half-doze, smiling at the absurd old servant with her labored determination to be thought witty, and wondering at the caprices of existence.
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