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Updated: May 1, 2025
Arthur's got a girl. Her name is Thursa. He tells me about her, and showed me her picter. She is beautiful beyond compare, and awful savin' on her clothes. At first I thought she had a die-away-ducky look, but I guess it's because she was sorry Arthur was comin' away. August 9th. Mrs. Motherwell is gittin' kinder, I think.
The fact was, he was full of happiness at his grandson's return, but he had had so little experience in happiness that he did not know how to express it. He asked a good many questions, and received apathetic answers. "Have you got any notes of the drama?" "No, sir." "Doggone your picter! "'Then sing, ye birds, sing, sing a joyous song, And let the young lambs bound As to the tabor's sound!"
"What'll be your charge for the plan of the pigsty, Mr. Lindsay?" the Deacon inquired with an air of interest, he might have become involved more deeply than he had intended. "How much should you call about right for the picter an' figgerin'?" "Oh, you're quite welcome to my sketch of a plan, Deacon.
Well, well, 'tis a long tramp back to Owston: so here's wishing you good night, missies all. If I take back no money, and no pay but a pint of sour cider, I've seen the prettiest picter in all Lincolnshire; so we'll count it a holiday." He was gone.
How dare you talk like that to me?" "As what, ma'am? I hain't said nothin' out'n the way, have I? O' course, ef ye don't want to git the fire stuff, thar's yer darter she's young an' strong. Yes, an' perty as a picter besides, though like enough triflin', like her maw. Where's she at now?" "None of your business where." "I could find her." "Oh, you could! How?"
He was very proud of that faithful girl, I guess, for the old chair still stands in the castle, and the name keeps in the family, Pa says, even over here, where some of the Bassetts came along with the Pilgrims." "Our Tilly would have been as brave, I know, and she looks like the old picter down to Grandma's, don't she, Eph?" cried Prue, who admired her bold, bright sister very much.
Wall, after we come back into the gallery agin, the first picter we went to see wuz "Christ Before Pilate," by Mr. Muncaxey. There He stood, the Man of Sorrows, with His tall figure full of patient dignity, and His face full of love, and pity, and anguish, all bent into a indescribable majesty and power.
"Bring a lamp," shouted Grimbal, and a moment later his groom obeyed; but the fallen man was sitting up by the time John reached him, and the gun that had exploded was at his feet. "You 'm tu late by half a second," he gasped. "I fired myself when I seed the muzzle clear. Poachin' he was, but the man 's marked all right. Send p'liceman for Sam Bonus to-morrer, an' I lay you'll find a picter."
"Gran's," she shouted; "it's been lost a mighty long time. Now I'm goin' to wear it to my five-o'clock tea. It's a picter hat, same's that lady had on to your house once I seen her."
I sot up in bed, leanin on my elbers and rubbin my eyes, and I saw the follerin picter: The Elder stood in the doorway, with a taller candle in his hand. He hadn't no wearin appeerel on except his night close, which flutterd in the breeze like a Seseshun flag. He sed, "You're a man of sin!" then groaned and went away.
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