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Updated: May 11, 2025
"Good Lord!" breathed the oldest boy, who was a high-school scholar. "How weird and primitive!" said the daughter, who was to be a teacher. But the father's eyes narrowed, and the hair of his scalp prickled. 'Way back yonder his mother had sung like that, and his heart leaped to it. If he hadn't been afraid of his educated and modern children, he would have wept. Emma didn't know that, of course.
But for Dick the chill came again, and once more his hair prickled at the roots. The ambush was even more complete than he had supposed, and General Grant would not be there when it was sprung. "Dick," said Colonel Kenton, "I have talked to you as I would not have talked to anyone else, but even so, I would not have talked to you as I have, were not your escape an impossibility.
A queer tingling, like the sting of a thousand tiny electric needles prickled through my veins, for even before I stooped and laid my hand on that barrier which was so heavy and yet so soft as it stopped my path, I knew what it would prove to be. It was as if I could see through the dark, to what it hid.
I reckon that's where I got the idea of makin' up po'try, later." "I really beg your pardon," said Bartley. "The mescal must of told you." "I don't quite get that," said Bartley. "No? Well, you ain't the first. Josh and Filaree is the only ones that sabes me. Let's sit in this corner and watch the mescal work for a livin'." It was a hot night. Sweat prickled on Bartley's forehead. His nose itched.
He avoided trappers' shacks and trails and occasional Indians. He rid himself of his beard and shaved himself every other day. Mary Josephine had never cared much for the beard. It prickled. She had wanted him smooth-faced, and now he was that. He looked better, too. But the most striking resemblance to Derwent Conniston was gone.
"It will not come off the skin as easily as it goes on, No!" he warned. "Time enough to think about that when I want to take it off," came the boy's reply. The decoction ready, Leon rubbed it in thoroughly into Stuart's skin. It prickled and smarted a good deal at first, but this feeling of discomfort soon passed away. "It won't rub off?" queried Stuart. Leon permitted himself a grim pleasantry.
Now, as his eyes turned toward her, she suddenly prickled with embarrassment her legs were showing to her knees! She tried vainly to pull down her skirt, then tried to head Gypsy toward the barn. But Grandma Shears, in scandalized tones, called out: "Why, Melissa Merriam! Get down off that horse immediately!"
She thought: "I would give anything to be able to speak to him privately and ask him a little more about what he said to-night. I ought to. I may never see him again. At any rate, I may never have another chance. He may have meant something else. He may not have been serious...." The skin of her face prickled, and a physical wave of emotion seemed to sweep downwards through her whole body.
"Four men from the Orphan Brigade with a prisoner," said Robertson. "Advance with the prisoner," said the picket, and the four men rode forward. Dick saw to both left and right other pickets, all in the gray uniform of the South, and his heart grew cold within him. The hair on his head prickled again at its roots, and it was a dreadful sensation. What did it mean?
It had been shipped without a combat casing. "Koa, make a final check. You can untie the landing boat, except for one line. We’ll be taking off in a few minutes." "Right, sir." Koa glided toward the landing boat, which was out of sight over the horizon. It was nearly time. Rip had a moment’s misgiving. Had his figures or his sightings been off? His red hair prickled at the thought.
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