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"Very well, then, about this number '14. Is that real or is it mythical?" Justice Higginbotham answered slowly. "At one time, Professor, it was real enough, but," turning to Marshall, "When did we last hear of " Marshall answered promptly: "We have not heard of Amos Brown alive, since 1902." "But," spoke up Stanislav Vasiliewski, quietly, "have we proof of his death?"
"Do you think that anybody named Michael Stanislav has the right to interfere in the quarrel of the Northern and Southern states? Don't the Stanislavs have trouble enough in the country where the Stanislavs grow?" The big youth stared at him without understanding. "Do you know who I am?" asked Harry, severely. "The running rebel that we all look for." "Rebels don't run.
Only lately councillor Kubrikov, a man of sixty-two, with the Stanislav Order on his breast, came forward uninvited and confessed in a voice full of feeling that he had beyond a shadow of doubt been for fully three months under the influence of the Internationale.
In the month of December one of the "Old Testament believers," Stanislav Hernish, addressed himself to the Polish dictator, Khlopitzki, in the name of a group of Jewish youths, assuring him of their eagerness to form a special detachment of volunteers to help in the common task of liberating their fatherland.
One of our party slipped on the clayey soil, and clutched at a big grey cross to save himself from falling. "Yegor Gryaznorukov, titular councillor and cavalier . ." he read. "I knew that gentleman. He was fond of his wife, he wore the Stanislav ribbon, and read nothing. . . . His digestion worked well . . . . life was all right, wasn't it?
It was perhaps partly a feeling of loneliness on his own part that caused him to linger in his talk with Michael Stanislav. "Michael," he continued, "you appreciate our respective positions, don't you?" "Ah!" said Michael, in a puzzled voice. "I've explained carefully to you that I'm Robin Hood, and you at the present moment represent the rich." "I am not rich.
One of the papers dug up an interesting story about Stanislav Vasiliewski, who was a Confederate soldier and had a brother in the Union army. Stanislav's brother had been captured and held in Jackson, Mississippi, where a rickety old enclosed bridge, the ruins of which had been left standing above the water, was used as a prison.
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