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Whereas, from what Mary had let fall, he saw that the boy must have been sitting in judgment on him, regarding his peculiarities with an unloving eye, picking his motives to pieces: it was like seeing the child of your loins, of your hopes, your unsleeping care, turn and rend you with black ingratitude. Yes, everything went to prove Purdy's unworthiness.
And, as he picked his muddy steps, Mahony agreed with himself that the net result, for him, of Purdy's coming to the colony, had been to saddle him with a new responsibility. It was his lot for ever to be helping the lad out of tight places. Sometimes it made him feel unnecessarily bearish.
At that time Florence wrote several plays, upon Irish and Yankee subjects, then very popular, and he began to figure as a star his wife standing beside him. They appeared at Purdy's National theatre, June 8, 1853, and then, and for a long time afterward, they had much popularity and success.
But it isn't reasonable to expect us to sacrifice eleven thousand or more just for neighborliness, IS it! How about it, Lyte? You willing to come down?" By warmly taking Purdy's part, Babbitt persuaded the benevolent Mr. Lyte to reduce his price to twenty-one thousand dollars.
With considerable ingenuity she evolved a dresser from a soap box and the colored supplements of the Sunday papers, which she gathered into a valance, in imitation of Mrs. Purdy's bright chintz. In the air-shaft window she started three potato vines in bottles, but not satisfied with the feeble results, she pinned red paper roses to the sickly white stems.
Purdy's last words, supplemented by the remark, "I shall attend to the strike in person." Harvey Trueman steps from the County Clerk's office into the corridor, on the second floor of the Court House at Wilkes-Barre, with the absolute knowledge that the case in hand is won.
In the yard stood a stranger who, when the dog Pompey had been chidden and soothed, made mysterious signs to Mahony and murmured a well-known name. Admitted to the sitting-room he fished a scrap of dirty paper from his boot. Mahony put the candle on the table and straightened out the missive. Sure enough, it was in Purdy's hand though sadly scrawled.
I think I heard him called Purdy." "Purdy? Bill Purdy?" Macandrew was incredulous. "Do you know what you've let yourself in for? If Purdy's got the job, I know why. Nobody else would take it, and he's the last man, anyway, who ought to have it." "What, drink?" asked Hanson. "Lord, no. Not Purdy. No. It's the man himself. I've known him a long time, and I like him, but he'll never do.
She blushed guiltily at the repetition, and asked her husband to say the lines once again. He did so. "But they don't really, Richard, do they?" she said in an apologetic tone she referred to the casting of shadows. "It would be so useful if they did " and she drew a sigh at Purdy's dilatory treatment of the girl who loved him so well.
Purdy's pasty face turned feebly red. He stammered it. No, unfortunately, Mr. Dunwoodie was out. Would Mrs. Paliser wait? In Mr. Dunwoodie's private office? And the 'Herald' perhaps or the 'Times' or or Everything there, Broad Street to boot, the Stock Exchange included, Mr. Purdy was ready and anxious to offer. No, Mrs. Paliser would not wait and mentally she thanked her stars for it.
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