United States or Laos ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


"I told him then about our Indians in Virginia, and that some of us had a bit of red blood in our veins, and I told him that you and I always used the old Indian war cry when we called to each other, and he asked, 'Who is Randy? and I said that you were an old friend, and that we had spent much of our childhood together."

"What would be the use?" he replied. "Nobody doubts it. Why, Rudy's Hole is known an' dreaded for miles around." Evidently regarding this argument as a clincher he turned aside, and began to talk to Daddy Perkiss. About this time Randy was doing a good deal of thinking.

He did the things he had always done, hunted up the friends he had always known. He spent weekends at various country places, and came always back to town with an undiminished sense of his need of Becky, and his need of revenge on Randy. He had heard before he left Virginia that Becky was at Nantucket. He had found some consolation in the fact that she was not at Huntersfield.

And neither do I It is almost as if the birds were alive and loved me." Randy hugged his knee and meditated. "But there are lots of rich women who wouldn't dust a room." She made a gesture of disdain. "Oh, that kind of rich people." "What kind?" "The kind that aren't used to their money. Who think ladies are idle. Sister Loretto says that is the worst kind the awful kind.

He had exceedingly good manners and an ease that was undeniable. There was of course good blood, back of him. And in a way it counted. George knew that he could never have been at ease in old clothes in the midst of elegance. It was Randy who spoke first of Becky. Dalton's heart jumped when he heard her name.

Then a strange hush pervaded the hall, and as the director swayed his baton, twenty bows were drawn across the strings of as many violins in one grand chord of sweetest harmony. Randy started, and laid her hand upon Helen's, while with parted lips she gazed at the musicians who were making the fairy-like music which so enthralled her.

And in time she grew to like it, and watched the road ahead with eager eyes, and with her ears perpetually cocked. Now and then Becky sat beside Randy, with Nellie at her feet. The difference between a ride with Randy and one with George Dalton was, Becky felt, the difference a not unpleasant commonplace and the stuff that dreams are made of.

The others were reassured by Ned's words, and when the fruits of the foraging expedition were taken from the canoes all else was forgotten but supper. "Won't we have a feast?" said Randy. "Just see here, fellows. Fresh, yellow butter, a pail of milk, three pies, two loaves of bread, a cup of cheese, a picked duck, and potatoes and apples!

"That man warned us to leave the creek, and he knew what he was talking about." "We can't very well take his advice now," replied Ned, "for there is no landing place in sight." "There is no use in stopping at all," exclaimed Randy, "if the object is to wait for the dam to break. We might be detained for a week, and then find that the dam was as strong as ever.

Seems to me I'd rather 'twouldn't be city girls to get acquainted with. Don't you wish they were not city girls, Randy?" "I believe that there are just as pleasant girls in Boston as there are here, and I look forward to meeting them," said Randy.