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Updated: May 12, 2025
Says he's going to give you the limit and, if possible, he's going to give you enough to keep you in all vacation instead of letting you loose on a defenseless world all summer. That's how strong you are up at the Scroggs house." There you were! Siwash College, the pride of six decades, mollycoddled by an old parody on a gorilla with a grouch against the solar system!
The train started on to pay a visit to old man Scroggs. "Say, old pard," asked Si as his wagon drove past, "is there any rebs 'round here?" "There wuz a few Confedrit critter-men ridin' 'bout hyar this mawnin'; mebby ye'll run agin 'em 'afore night." "How many o' your boys is among em?" "We'uns is all Union." "Jest as long as we're 'round, I s'pose!" said Si.
Wal, the very next day the parson's hen-turkey was found killed up to old Jim Scroggs's barn. Folks said Scroggs killed it; though Scroggs, he stood to it he didn't: at any rate, the Scroggses, they made a meal on't; and Huldy, she felt bad about it 'cause she'd set her heart on raisin' the turkeys; and says she, 'Oh, dear! I don't know what I shall do.
He'd served only two days, but instead of rushing right off to rehearse his oration, which he couldn't do in the workhouse, owing to an accountable prejudice the tramps and other prisoners had against oratory, he took the evening off and went driving with Martha Scroggs about as queer a thing for him to do as it would be for the Pope to take a young lady to the theatre.
There wasn't a thing to be done. The Faculty appealed to the mayor, but old Scroggs had some regular Spanish-bit hold on him in the way of a short-time note, I guess, and he washed his hands of the whole affair. Our college great men were hauled out to the works and served their time. When they got out they were sights. They weren't strong on sanitation in workhouses in those days.
In honor of his retirement we had a pajama parade which was nine blocks long and forty-two blocks loud, and a platoon of six policemen led the way. Of course that engagement business left all sorts of complications. Scroggs pestered his daughter for about a month to make her decision.
"Constance Carew!" stammered the other, desperately swallowing the toast. Mauville slowly emptied the glass. "A balsamic taste, slightly piquant but agreeable," he observed. "A dangerous wine, Scroggs! It carries no warning; your older kind is like a world-worn coquette whose glances at once place you on the defensive.
Seated in the library, with the curtains drawn, were the land baron and Scroggs, a surveyor's map between them and a dozen bottles around them. Before Mauville stood several glasses, containing wines of various vintages which the land baron compared and sipped, held to the light and inhaled after the manner of a connoisseur sampling a cellar.
"Haint got a dog-goned ear left!" was the surly answer. "Some o' you-unses men wuz out here yisterdy 'n' tuk every bit I hed." This may or may not have been true. Inquiries of this nature always developed the fact that it was a man's neighbors who had plenty of corn; he never had any himself. "There's ole man Scroggs," he continued; "he lives a matter of two miles from hyar.
Perhaps the flavor of the wine made him less attentive to his prisoner, for as he lifted the receptacle to his lips, she thrust her arms through the window and a play book dropped from her hand, a possible clue for any one who might follow the coach. For some time she had been awaiting this opportunity and when it came, the carriage was entering a village. Scroggs finished his cup.
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