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He threw off even the light coat he wore, and walked up and down the gravel roadway in his shirtsleeves with the restlessness which great heat imparts to the full-blooded and strong. Sam sat near the barn-door, smoking his pipe. At last he said, "Marse George, 'spose I took out de hosses an let dem stan in de open." "What's the matter with them?" "Dunno, 'less it's de po'ful heat.
If there was only some one with any backbone who would go ahead, the rest would follow all right. People are getting sick and tired of the Stubbles' rule." "Maybe the new parson'll be that kind of a man," Jake suggested. "'Spose we wait till he comes." "H'm," and Mrs.
It was now Saturday, and his money would not hold out if he should get boarded at a public-house till then. What should he do? After some reflection, he determined to go back to the old lady of whom he bought his gingerbread, as he liked her appearance very well, and ask her advice. So back he went. "Ah! back again?" said she, as he entered her shop. "Want more gingerbread I 'spose?"
Won't he get well too soon, now, and perhaps be up at West Falls before I am more than half ready for him?" "Oh, you poor chile you don't half understan' dis ole woman!" chuckled the crone, delighted to find that she had puzzled the lawyer. "Spose de good doctor so good that he nebber get well? Eh, honey?"
The thought of danger resuscitates Corkey. He finds some sailors, tells them how he was elected to Congress, slaps them on the back, tries to split the bar with his fist, a feat which has often won votes, and tightens his heart with raw Canadian whisky. "Going to be rough, Corkey." "'Spose so," nods Corkey. "Is she pretty good?" "The Africa?" "Um-huh!" "Oh, well, she's toted me often enough.
Here's the ticket yer want Coffinberry. Here's Senterberry and Coffinter. What the h l yer tryin' to fool the man for? Don't yer spose he knows who he wants ter vote for, say! 'Ere's the ticket Sen Coff don't crowd get off my toes, you d d fool! Workin' men's tickets is the ticket you want! To h l wid yez workin' men's ticket, 'ere's the ticket yez want!
"Why, I've broke this here clavis: I ha'n't touched anything nor nothing, and it broke right in teu!" "What do you 'spose 'll be done now?" said Mr. Plumfield, gravely, going up to examine the fracture. "Well, 't wa'n't none of my doings," said the young man. "I ha'n't touched anything nor nothing, and the mean thing broke right in teu. 'Tain't so handy as the old kind o' plough, by a long jump."
A Bengola light was displayed for a moment from the foretop, and answered by another from the shore. "All right, cap'n," said the mate, walking aft to where Morris was standing, near the wheel. "The critters have seen us, and that are firework means that there aint no vigilantes round abeout. I spose we shall hev the lighters along side airly in the mornin'." "Yes," said the captain.
I spose the inflammertory individooals who assisted in projucing this Krysis know what good she will do, but I ain't 'shamed to state that I don't scacely. But the Krysis is hear. She's bin hear for sevral weeks, & Goodness nose how long she'll stay. But I venter to assert that she's rippin things.
"That train was dragging along pretty slow when it passed us," said Tom. "Sure, 'bout a million cars," Roy panted. "There's an up-grade, too, I think, between here and Poughkeepsie. Be half an hour, anyway, before they make it. You're a wonder. We'll kid the life out of Pee-wee for riding on a train after all. 'Spose he did it on purpose or got locked in?" "Locked in, I guess," said Tom.
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