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Updated: June 8, 2025
His nephew grumblingly got his paper and pencil, took the arithmetic and went to work. No one spoke for a while, Captain Perez twirling his thumbs and looking, as he felt, uncomfortable. Soon Josiah, announcing that his studies were completed, grabbed the novel from the table, took a lamp from the kitchen and went off to bed. When he had gone Captain Jerry said, "Perez, you're sp'ilin' that boy."
Ben thinks a lot of the boys. But the colonel is sp'ilin' his temper some with that bow whip. I reckon why Ben jest come out there lookin' so savage was because he thought old Ward was comin' up to camp." The moose finished his critical survey of the group, snorted, and then thrust himself out of sight in the bushes.
I ain't brought no sofy pillows, ner even a fire-screen to keep the sun from sp'ilin' yer complexion." Leighton smiled, but said nothing. They had reached the carryall, an old hickory structure sadly in need of paint. Hitched to it were two rangy bays. The harness was a piece of ingenious patchwork, fitted with hames instead of collars. Leighton stepped into the back seat, and Lewis followed.
"It appeals to my instincts as an eddicated man," went on Sol, calmly disregarding Jim. "We've got up the house without sp'ilin' the surroundin's. It jest blends with rock an' bush, an' we've helped natur' without tryin' to improve it." "I believe you've got the truth of it, Sol," said Paul. "I'm getting fond of this place. How long do you think we'll stay here, Sol?"
George was quite honest, and so, for that matter, was Todd: the Brown Sherry had also seen its day. "Yes, sah but how would dat fine ol' peach brandy de jedge gin ye do? It's sp'ilin' to be tasted, sah." Both eyes were now in eclipse in the effort to apprise his master that with the exception of some badly corked Madeira, Tom Coston's peach brandy was about the only beverage left in the cellar.
"Begorra, it's a buster an' no mishtake!" exclaimed Tim Rooney coming off the forecastle as soon as he had seen the other head sails attended to, and setting me free from the lashings with which his whilom tritons had bound my hands and legs. "Sp'ilin' all av our fun, too, Misther Gray-ham, jist whin I wor goin' to shave ye!" I did not regret this, though, I'm sure.
"Rich feedin' is the sp'ilin' o' this here hoss band," added the farrier, stanching the flow of blood from his scalp; "quit quar'lin' with your rations, kettle-drums!" "Y'orter swaller them cinders," insisted another; "they don't cost nothin'!"
Bread and butter enough they were to take with them eggs, too. "You better come home for milk every day or every other day, at least," remarked the mother. "We'd ruther steal it from the cows in the pasture," ventured Sam, "seems naturaler to me Injun blood." "If I ketch ye foolin' round the cows or sp'ilin' them the fur'll fly," growled Raften.
"But I don't know how ye got it. And if you've got an ortermobile, too, I bet ye stole that!" "You hesh up, Sairy," advised Mr. Blodgett. "No need of your sp'ilin' a trade. Gimme my supper. I'll hafter eat b'fore I go with ye, young man." "Oh, all right," sighed Tom, remembering how the girls must be very much frightened by this time. The man tramped into the house with the milk and the lantern.
Jo, back yer tops'ls! Didn't Henry tell ye that ye wasn't to convarse upon that there last matter even with yerself, for fear o' bein' overheard and sp'ilin' the whole affair? Come, I'll refresh myself." The refreshment in which Jo proposed to indulge was of a peculiar kind which never failed him it was the perusal of Susan's love-letter.
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