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Updated: June 16, 2025
"You're getting to be a dear good little boy, Horace," said Grace, soothingly; "but I don't think you'll ever be a minister." "Perhaps I'd as soon be a shoemaker," continued Horace, thoughtfully; "they get a great deal for tappin' boots." His sister made no reply. "See here, now, Grace: perhaps you'd rather I'd be a tin-pedler; then I'd always keep a horse, and you could ride."
He's managed to keep hold of a little property that brings him in just enough to scrub along on, and he joins that hungry-eyed, trembly-fingered fringe of margin pikers that hangs around every hotel broker's branch in town, takin' a timid flier now and then, but tappin' the free lunch hard and reg'lar. You know the kind, seedy hasbeens, with their futures all behind 'em.
"Boxin' gloves, Ma'am," says I. "That's the pair of mitts that won me the championship, back in " "Has Mr. Steele become a pugilist, too?" she asks. "Not so you'd notice it," says I. "Hm-m-m-m!" says she, tappin' the toe of one of her pumps and gazin' around critical. Not that she takes any notice of me. Honest, if I'd been a yellow pup tied in the corner, she couldn't have been more offhand.
Anyway, you can give me a line on on my folks, I suppose?" Yes, he admits that he can; but he don't. And I will say for him that he states his case smooth enough, smilin' that catchy smile of his, and tappin' me friendly on the knee.
We catches ourselves doin' the open-face act, while the little stranger idea stands tappin' patient on the wood. Course, treasure huntin' was just what had lured us so far from home. For nearly three weeks, now, that had been the big notion.
"We uns had er interestin meetin las night," he said meekly. "Well mus yer put on er graveyard face ter day bekase yer had er interestin meetin las night? Don't put so much gravy on yer rice, hits ergin yer helth. Maria Tappin tol me yestidy thet her brother Tom was to be nitiated las night with er good meny other uns, an I 'lowed I'd here erbout hit, as my husban was er goin.
Say, after I'd been led up to this faded old relic that's bolstered with pillows in the armchair by the window, and listened to her wavery, cracked voice, I couldn't see anything funny in it at all. It's a vague, batty sort of talk we had. Mostly it's a monologue by her. "I am quite annoyed," says she, tappin' the chair arm with her thin, blue-white finger-nails. "My income, you know.
"For the men to come back with Roger. Then we'll haul home." "You'll 'ave to wait a bit longer, I'm thinkin'," said Priscilla "They's all drinkin' beer in the yard now an' tappin' another barrel to drink at when the waggon comes in. There's no animals on earth as ever thirsty as men! Well, good luck t'ye! I must go, or there'll be a smell of burnin' supper-cakes."
They came by night and by day. Sam Wood, Tappin and Smith, the rescuers of Branson, and who were residents of Lawrence, left the city, and there were none there against whom Sheriff Jones had any writs to execute. Dr. Robinson was appointed Commander-in-Chief for the defense of the city, and James H. Lane was appointed second in command. But Lane was the principal figure in the enterprise.
If somebody else had told me I'd of laughed at 'em. But it's true. Tell me: what'll you do with him?" "Take him back if I can reach him take him back to the East." "Yes maybe he'd be happy there. But when the spring comes to the city, Mary, wait till the wind blows in the night and the rain comes tappin' on the roof. Then hold him if you can. D'ye hear? Hold him if you can!"
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