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Updated: June 29, 2025
As I was returning I met Ben Somers. When he saw me he threw his cap into the air, with the information that he had done with his plans, and had ordered an indigestible supper, in honor of his resolve. As people had truly remarked, he could afford to be eccentric. He was tired of it; he had money enough to do without law. "Not as much as your cousin Morgeson, who can do without the Gospel, too."
"Who's this Somers?" I asked him, rather abruptly. "Is he all right?" "You bet," said Steele, smiling. "He's a top-notcher." "In what respects?" "Every and all." "You've known him long?" "Yes. I tell you Cal, he's all right. Forget it. What's the surprise for supper? Do you know?" "Of course not. It wouldn't be a surprise if we all knew of it." "Well, Vicky's surprises are always great fun.
"I don't know and I don't care. Only as Mrs. Reeves says he is coming here tonight, I'd like to know something about him." "Coming here! A man you don't know?" I drew up a chair to join the group. "How can he?" "Mr. Steele is going to bring him," said Mrs. Reeves. "He says Norman Steele says, that Mr. Somers is a first-class all-around chap, and no end of fun. Says he's a millionaire."
Poor George Somers had known what it was to be in sickness, and none to soothe lonely and in prison, and none to visit him. He could not endure his mother from his sight; if she moved away, his eye would follow her. She would sit for hours by his bed watching him as he slept.
Somers sat down beside Emilie, who was painting the last flower of her watch of Flora. Mrs. Somers wrote on a slip of paper, "Don't ask M. de Brisac to read the papers, for I want to speak to you." She threw down the note before Emilie, who was so intent upon what she was about, that she did not immediately see it Mrs.
While Jessie was alertly bringing forth her toys and picture-books, she said, "I am sorry to keep you waiting, sir; but if it is the baskets you come about, I can call my husband." "Do," said Kenelm. "William, William," cried Mrs. Somers; and after a delay long enough to allow him to slip on his jacket, William Somers emerged from the back parlour.
Mayhew’s voice sounded from the rail of the gunboat. Somers swiftly answered all questions. “Your craft and crew are in a measure under our protection and orders,” decided Mr. Mayhew. “I think we may properly extend you some help. I will send some men to you, and a cadet midshipman who will have my instructions.” “Will you send them quickly, sir?” begged Eph.
"Good for you, Out!" yelled Dave Somers; and the rest of the watchers echoed the sentiment in various ways, even those who desired to see Whipple triumphant yielding their meed of praise for the performance. And, "I guess, Out," said Whipple ruefully, "you might as well take the cup." But Outfield West only smiled silently in response, and followed his ball with businesslike attention to the game.
"He said he should like to join the army, and go down and fight the rebels." Mrs. Somers had heard as much from him, but she had given no particular attention to his remarks on this subject, for they seemed wild and visionary. John's words, under the present circumstances, appeared to be full of importance; and taking her stocking, she seated herself before the stove, and resumed her knitting.
He thought at first Somers had got caught, somehow, and gave one more shake, but when Somers swung back and forth, laughing and calling out, 'Much obliged, Mr. Painter much obliged for the nice swing! Mr. Painter climbed down and took out for home as hard as he could, without looking behind him, for he thought it was some kind of magic.
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