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Updated: May 21, 2025
The two things Abner valued most were a windmill and a scratching-post for hogs. They were equally beautiful, and the fame of their comeliness had gone widely abroad. To them Joab naturally paid his attention. The windmill, who was called Lucille Ashtonbury Clifford, received him with expressions of the liveliest disgust.
His face was full of freakish merriment, and he walked with a swing of the hips. As he came up to Pelle he swayed to and fro a few times and then bumped into him. "Oh, excuse me!" he said, touching his cap. "I thought it was a scratching-post, the gentleman stood so stiff. Well, you mustn't take it amiss!"
His face was full of freakish merriment, and he walked with a swing of the hips. As he came up to Pelle he swayed to and fro a few times and then bumped into him. "Oh, excuse me!" he said, touching his cap. "I thought it was a scratching-post, the gentleman stood so stiff. Well, you mustn't take it amiss!"
Disgusted with the selfish heartlessness of society, Joab shambled off and was passing the scratching-post without noticing her. Joab paused, looked at her with his ox-eyes, and gravely marching up, commenced a vigorous scratching against her. "Arabella," said he, "do you think you could love a shaggy-hided beef with black hair? Could you love him for himself alone?"
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