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It was full. He raised it to his lips and took a long swig. "Great Jehosephat," he gasped, his eyes starting out with astonishment. "That ain't water. It's prime old applejack, smoother'n butter, and smellin' sweeter'n a rose. Best I ever tasted."

"And it rang like bells, didn't it?" prompted Zerkow. "Sweeter'n church bells, and clearer." "Ah, sweeter'n bells. Wasn't that punch-bowl awful heavy?" "All you could do to lift it." "I know. Oh, I know," answered Zerkow, clawing at his lips. "Where did it all go to? Where did it go?" Maria shook her head. "It's gone, anyhow." "Ah, gone, gone! Think of it!

He might be a man of deep feeling, and, as Albert walked home, he made up his mind to be charitable. But just then he heard that rattling voice: "Purty night! By George! Katy, you're divine, by George! Sweeter'n honey and a fine-tooth comb! Dearer to my heart than a gold dollar! Beautiful as a dew-drop and better than a good cigar! He! he! he!"

Why! there he is now." Sure enough, there was Van, standing like a statue of misery on the front porch of the main hotel, the light from the winder shining full on him. Jonesy stared and stared. "Is that the man?" he says, choking up. "Was HE sweet on Mabel?" "Sweeter'n a molasses stopper," says I. "But he's going away in a day or so. You don't need to worry."

Jordan? her voice war sweeter'n yo' ever hearn a turtle dove when callin' her mate ter breakfast. "'Thet's me, sez I. "She held out her hand thet war soft an' white an' shapely, an' warm, and sed: "'I am Mrs. Margaret Hazleton, ther teacher in ther school, and I was directed here.

Now they's nothin' sweeter'n a tin horn, 'thout 'tis a melodious conch-shell utterin' its voice like a turkle-dove. Then we've got the paytent double whirlymagig hoss-violeen, and the tin pannyforte, and, better nor all, the grindin' skelletled cymbals. We've laid ourselves out and done our purtiest hain't we, feller-musicians? to prove that we was the best band on the Ohio River.

Why, that punch-bowl was worth a fortune alone " "And it rang when you hit it with your knuckles, didn't it?" prompted Zerkow, eagerly, his lips trembling, his fingers hooking themselves into claws. "Sweeter'n any church bell," continued Maria. "Go on, go on, go on," cried Zerkow, drawing his chair closer, and shutting his eyes in ecstasy.

"An' if y' ever tell a soul I done it, I'll scrape every inch of skin off'n your flesh, an' mebbe I'll do something worse, I hate y' that bad." In less seconds than it takes to tell it, Peg let Jinnie go, and the girl went out of the door with a smiling sigh. "Kisses 're sweeter'n roses," she murmured, walking to the track. "I wish I'd get more of 'em."

Why; fust of all, he's sweeter'n sirup to him, takes him in, keeps him overnight, and the next day he says to him: 'You just be quiet and say nothin' to nobody that she's your little girl. I'll make it wuth your while. Keep quiet till I'm ready for you to say it. And he gives the father money not much, but some. All right so fur, maybe; but wait!

She was giving him the best of all the vittles, and used to set at the table and look at him, softer'n and sweeter'n a bucket of molasses. Used to walk 'longside of him, too, and look up in his face and smile. I could see that he noticed it and that it was worrying him a heap. One day he says to me: "''Edge, says he, 'I b'lieve that 'ere chromo of a Lobelia 'Ankins is getting soft on me.