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Pop's sick all the time and cross, and poor mother looks so tired and tries to be so cheerful and brave that your heart aches for her. And even when you're poor, a girl wants things, pretty things and to do things like other girls and work as hard as you can you can't ever seem to reach them. I get just sick of it. I thought if I could get this money "
The voice of the drummer could instantly be heard calling loudly from the darkness of the stage: "Don't open those flaps. If they see us, they'll fire!" "I wanted you folks to know," said Hunk Smith, leaning from the box- seat, "that that talk of Pop's was all foolishness. You're as safe on this trail as in a Pullman palace-car. That was just his way. Pop will have his joke.
"I wonder who can be writing to the piggie boys," said the rabbit gentleman. "I'll take the letters to them." So he stopped to play just one game of Scotch checkers with Pop Goes the Weasel, only they didn't quit finish it because Mr. Pop's cat jumped on the middle of the board to catch a mosquito and scattered the checkers all over. "Scat!" cried Pop Goes the Weasel. "Why did you do that?"
Druse made no reply. She never did. Instead, she bent her thin, childish back, and pulled the burning bread out of the oven. None the less, Druse went. It was all Pop's work.
"She's getting better," she said one morning as she held the girl's big bony hand and looked down at the thin bright face in its frame of shining hair. "We'll have her sitting up now before long." Pop's whole aspect brightened. "Ef Sal onct begins to git well, can't none of 'em beat her," he said proudly. "Have you any other children?" Miss Fletcher asked. "Lord, yes," said Pop, "heaps of 'em.
Mebby another of them heart-ballum cases of Bob's," hazarded Pop Bridgers, who read nothing unless it was printed on pink paper, and who refused to believe that any good could come out of a city. "Ain't that right, Loney? Hain't she a heart-ballum girl of Bob's?" From the saddle Lone stared down impassively at Pop and Pop's companions. "I don't know a thing about her," he stated emphatically.
"I been goose huntin'," Indian Jake explained. "Not much goose yet. Too early. Got four. Goin' to The Jug now to give Thomas a hand. Want to start for Seal Lake soon. Don't want to be late." "Pop's thinkin' to start in a fortnight," said David. "Good!" acknowledged Indian Jake. "Maybe we start sooner. Start when we're ready. I want to go quick. Have plenty time get there before freeze-up."
Was he not a partner in pop's homestead? Then a thin red flash from the cabin window told him that Annersley was there. Following the flash came the rip and roar of the old rifle. Concealed in the timber, Pete could see the flames licking up the stable. Presently a long tongue of yellow shot up the haystack. "The doggone snakes done fired our hay!" he cried, and his voice caught in a sob.
I met him last night in the lane and everything's arranged for us to leave tonight, run into Brattleboro and be married there and then go on to Boston and wait till pop's disposed to be reasonable." "He will be very angry, of course," said Archie, his ardor somewhat chilled now that he knew the nature of the project in which she asked his cooperation.
The boy sat on the edge of the table, in his shirt sleeves, and thought how lucky it was that both father and mother were going away, and the coast would be clear for a couple of hours. "Good! Now I can take down pop's gun and fire off a shot, without anybody's meddling interference," he said to himself.
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