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Updated: May 19, 2025
The slogan of unrighteousness is: "Calumniate, calumniate, some of it will stick!" He who slanders, lies; he who lies once may lie again, a liar is never worthy of belief, whether he tells the truth or not, for there is no knowing when he is telling the truth. One has the right to disbelieve the calumniator when he does wrong or when he tries to undo it.
The cry was repeated as a nearer slogan of defiance the plain shook there was the tempestuous onset of furious hoofs a dozen shots the scattering of the embers of the camp-fire into a thousand vanishing sparks even as the lurid gathering of savage humanity was dispersed and dissipated over the plain, and Gideon and the prisoner stood alone.
He found his revenge in repeating a similar slogan, one that had often been as a supplement to this more usual phrase, "Partons pour la France aujourd'hui, pour l'amour de Dieu!"
I'm dem glad I did. Ef you'll jest take a peep at 'er you'll feel better." "Well, I won't close my two eyes," affirmed his wife. "I hain't seed 'er, nur I don't intend to, ef I kin git out of it." When supper was ready they softly moved their chairs to their places and sat down. Mrs. Slogan didn't eat heartily, but Peter's appetite seemed normal.
It might go far to add romance to whomever should read of the affair later; but in so far as Bridge and the deserter were concerned it meant nothing. A billboard, thought Bridge, bearing the slogan: "Eventually! Why not now?" would have been equally as efficacious and far more appropriate. The room in which he was confined was stuffy with the odor of accumulated filth.
She could hear Slogan and his wife, now barefooted, thumping about in the next room. Far away against the mountain-side she heard a hunter calling to his dogs and blowing a horn. John Westerfelt lived on his own farm in the big two-storied frame house which had been built by his grandfather, and which came to him at the death of his father and mother.
What were the drab records of Birch's ledgers, or even the monumental pile of nearby buildings, compared to this impetuous slogan? He stood silently, plunged in the psychology of the moment. "How much power total I mean?" said Ardswell presently, pointing to the ripping flood. "Two hundred and forty thousand horsepower, at a minimum." "By George!"
She hates me like a rattlesnake, an' has jest come heer so she kin devil me to death. I see it now. She seed she wusn't worryin' me much over thar in 'er ol' cabin, an' she's jest bent on gittin' nigher." "I reckon that's jest yore yore conscience a-talkin'," opined Slogan. "Thar's no gittin' round it, Clariss, you did sorter rub it in when Sally wus alive.
Slogan began to prepare supper, casting, the while, frequent glances at the door opening on the passage. Peter smoked pipe after pipe without being able to come to any definite conclusion as to how to surmount the difficulty. Suddenly he looked over his shoulder and tapped the heel of his shoe with his pipe. "You'd better cook enough fer three," was what he said, "an' make more coffee.
At the same time an agitation had been started among the farmers, with the slogan "Back to the city," the idea being that farm life was so rough that it was not fair to ask the returned soldier to share it. All these anticipations turn out to be quite groundless. The first returned soldier of whom I had direct knowledge was my nephew Tom.
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