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Updated: June 27, 2025
I do feel mortified, but I can't seem to help it, no way in the world." "No need to, Mis' Pitkin," said Deacon Bassett, rising slowly and reaching for his hat. "No need to.
"Where did you get him?" demanded Pitkin. "Outen that stall yondeh," said the stable hand, pointing. "That was where you put your colt, wasn't it?" asked Pitkin, turning to Uncle Gabe. "Yes, suh, I put him there all right, but this ain't him." "Oh, come now," laughed Pitkin, "you've been thinking it over and you're afraid you've picked the wrong one. Be a sport, Gabe; stick with your bargain."
So when the geometry class was recitin', there was four in it, George and Charley King, and Bertha Whitney and Mary Pitkin, the girls bein' awful smart, and always havin' their lessons. The professor turned to George Heigold and says: "George, you may demonstrate proposition three." Then the professor gave Bertha proposition four, and Mary proposition five, and Charley proposition six.
"Are you not satisfied with me?" "No!" said Pitkin brusquely. "In what respect have I failed to satisfy you, sir?" "Don't put on any airs, boy!" returned Pitkin. "We don't want you, that's all." "You might have given me a little notice," said Phil indignantly. "We made no stipulation of that kind, I believe." "It would only be fair, sir." "No impertinence, young man! I won't stand it!
"There may be circumstances, Lavinia, that make it advisable," suggested Mr. Carter, who, however, did not know Phil's reason for coming. "No doubt; I understand that," answered Mrs. Pitkin, in a tone so significant that Phil wondered whether she thought he had got into any trouble at home. "And besides, we can't judge for every one.
Oliver Carter is your uncle, I believe?" said the visitor. "Yes." "I met him on Broadway the other day. He was looking very well." "It must have been a fortnight since, then. Uncle Oliver is in Florida." "In Florida!" repeated Mrs. Vangriff, in surprise. "When did he go?" "When was it, Lonny?" asked Mrs. Pitkin, appealing to her son. "It will be two weeks next Thursday."
"I have bad news for you, sir," returned Phil, saying what stood first in his mind. "I have lost the two hundred dollars Mr. Pitkin paid me this morning." "So you lost it?" observed Mr. Pitkin with a sneer, emphasizing the word "lost" to show his incredulity. "Yes, sir, I lost it," answered Phil, looking him fearlessly in the eye; "or, rather, it was stolen from me."
Pitkin, for I am sure that Lavinia is the cause of his dismissal, and I don't know when he will be able to get another." "You won't send him away, mother, if he can't pay his board?" "No," answered her mother warmly. "Philip is welcome to stay with us as long as we have a roof over our heads, whether he can pay his board or not."
"He leave 'em like they standin' still!" "I want to slip him into the fourth race next Saturday," said Pitkin, "and he'll have Calloway and Hartshorn to beat. There ought to be a nice price on him 4 or 5 to 1, anyway, on account of what he's been showing lately." "Yo' goin' bet on him, suh?" "Straight and place," said Pitkin, "but I won't bet a nickel here at the track.
The deacon looked at him rather sharply, but Ben didn't appear to intend any disrespect in repeating his favorite phrase. "Did your father leave you much?" inquired Deacon Pitkin. "A few hundred dollars," said Ben carelessly. "Indeed!" said the deacon, gratified. "What are you goin' to do with it?" "Uncle Job thinks it would be best to put it in the bank." "Jest so.
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