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Updated: June 21, 2025
"Syl brought you here," Patricia was going on, "because she was lonely and you fitted in; she never changed her own course. She has engaged herself to her John because he fits in and will never interfere. I've seen him and I grieve over him. He'll think, bye and bye, that he's gone into partnership with God in giving Syl and her art to the world!
"By jing, they surely ought; well, but can you spell mum?" "M-u-m." "Ha, ha, ha, take care of yourself, an' don't forget seven." "Never fear." "Frank," said Art, "I'm goin' up to Syl Harte's lodgin's to pass my opinion on the patthern of a waistcoat for him." "Very well," said Frank, "of coorse." "I'll not stop long." "As long or short as you like, Art, my boy."
"Out of respect for Art Maguire we'll go; an' divil another boy in the province we'd pay that respect to; good-evenin', Syl!" "Aisy, boys," said Art, coming to the door, "don't let me frighten you come in I'd be very sorry to be the means of spoilin' sport, although I can't drink myself; that wouldn't be generous come in."
"My, but you must have thought I could eat like a horse!" she remarked scathingly. "You can give them to Julia Duffy," and she flounced out of the seat to another at some distance, leaving Syl to endure an evening of tormenting doubt as to whether he might see her home. Mr. Watson came bustling over nervously to confer with the choir leader.
They only play with them; don't get confused on that line, lamb." "Don't worry about me, Syl. I don't even want to play with them. Syl, I do not think I shall ever marry. I'm like Aunt Dorrie, but if I ever should marry it would be something to help one grip life, not something to to well, haul along!" Sylvia turned and eyed Joan. "My pet lamb," she remarked, "you are all right!
Syl Todd sat upon the veranda of the store, watching until his old buckboard sank behind the south hill, wondering if he were ill.
Divil a dacent stitch I have, an' I want either it, or another, made up before the ball night."* * Country dances, or balls, in which the young men pay from ten to fifteen pence for whiskey "to trate the ladies." We hope they will be abolished. "Well, upon my soundhers, Syl, I did not think you were such a fool; of coorse I'll pass my opinion on it about seven o'clock, you say."
"No matther for that, I'm not goin' to put my judgment in comparishment wid yours, at any rate; an' Paddy M'Gartland himself said, 'Syl, my boy, you know what you're about; if this patthern plaises Art Maguire, it'll plaise anybody; see what it is, says he, 'to have the fine high ould blood in one's veins. Begad he did; will you come up this evenin' about seven o'clock, now, like a good fellow, an' pass your opinion for me?
She sat, a small cold huddle in the center of the cab seat, toward him her quivering face flashing out as street lamps bounced past. They were nearing the great marble facade of the Seventh Avenue Terminal. "Herman, I I hate to see everything bust up like this you you such a prince and all but like Syl says, I I guess all fools ain't dead yet!"
When Coonie came down with the mail the next morning, Syl Todd confided his troubles to the mail-carrier as he watered his horse. "Now, that there Allan Fraser ain't got no more manners than if he'd never been outside of Glenoro," he said in conclusion of his mournful recital; "he don't know nothin' about how to treat a lady."
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