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Updated: June 9, 2025
My place'll be in de front hall ter mix mint-juleps fo' 'im en his frien's fum de city when dey skeet by in deir automobiles en stop over fer er smoke en er howdy-do. He gwine ter order me er long-tail, jimswingin' blue coat. He done say dat he'll look ter me ter keep you-all's j'ints oiled up so yo' won't walk in yo' sleep so much in de day-time." "Go 'long, yo' fool nigger!"
The Pornes were sympathetic and anxious. "That place'll cost her all of $10,000 a year, with those twenty-five to feed, and they only pay $4.50 a week I know that!" said Mr. Porne. "It does look impossible," his wife agreed, "but such is my faith in Diantha Bell I'd back her against Rockefeller!" Mrs. Weatherstone was not alarmed at all.
Tibbie had come out, and was looking on in dismay. "That's Willie again, sir," she was saying. "You never can tell where he'll be spouting that weary water at you." The whole place'll be bog before long, and we'll be all turned into frogs, and have nothing to do but croak. That well 'll be the ruin of us all with cold and coughs."
"The place'll do, I reckon," admitted Uncle Josh. "But farmin' ain't what it was. It's a hard job gettin' meat an' drink out o'd now-a-days." "Mamma told us you were rich," said Tom in surprise. "But you can't be, because because " "Wal?" said Uncle Josh, with a slow, stupid smile. "Because your horses are all thin, and you wear these clothes; and Aunt Hepsy doesn't dress like a lady.
The Secretary'll come round every once in a while to get letters, of course, and perhaps he'll keep a boy in the front office for show, but practically the place'll be shut up. That'll help out the general impression that I've gone to pieces. Now d'ye see?" "It's the Special Settlement you're thinking of," commented Semple. "Of course.
"The damned in intriguing rogue'sh worked himself into my father's grashes," he said, counting out his words. "He'sh no more Whig than me. I know'sh game, Courtenay he wants t' marry Patty. Thish place'll be hers." The effect upon me of these words, with all their hideous implication of gossip and scandal, was for an instant benumbing. The interpretation of the doctor's innuendo struck me then.
"The damned in intriguing rogue'sh worked himself into my father's grashes," he said, counting out his words. "He'sh no more Whig than me. I know'sh game, Courtenay he wants t' marry Patty. Thish place'll be hers." The effect upon me of these words, with all their hideous implication of gossip and scandal, was for an instant benumbing. The interpretation of the doctor's innuendo struck me then.
"But we've got to go easy, Sarah Ellen, no bungling. We've got to spin some sort of a yarn that won't break, nor have any weak places; and of course, as far as the real work of the farm is concerned, we'll still do the most of it. But the place'll be theirs. See? theirs! <i>Working out</i> good Heavens!" It must have been a week later that Jeremiah burst into his wife's room.
I can hardly believe yet that you're serious, Reardon. 'Why not? Will you promise me the work? 'Well, yes. 'When shall I have to begin? 'The place'll be opened to-morrow week. But how about your holiday? 'Oh, let that stand over. It'll be holiday enough to occupy myself in a new way. An old way, too; I shall enjoy it.
She did not answer, and before he could repeat his remark to her, Lord Jasper exclaimed, "I say, you know, we ought to be getting home, Cecily. It's getting jolly late!..." "Let's wait a little longer," she said, "Gilbert hasn't come yet!" "But I mean to say, this place'll be closing soon...." Mr.
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