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Updated: May 17, 2025
Derieux, are those of a boy in a particular Southern neighbourhood the author knows. Miss Louise Rice, who boasts a strain of Romany blood, spends part of her year with the gypsies. Mr. Terhune is familiar, from the life, with his prototypes of "On Strike."
To come out of nothing, going nowheres, and run into a dirty Indian who says: 'By Jove, that's the first decent cup of tea I've had in ten years! And then along comes this Terhune and says that he knows the man." Mrs. Malcolm raised her chin from the hand that had been supporting it. "I don't blame you," she said, "for being late."
"I was at her borning," Jean remarked, "and I minded then and spoke it open, that she was made of the odds and ends of them who went before her. I've a notion that the good and evil that might have thinned out over all the Glenn girls must work out thick in Priscilla." "I'm thinking," Mary Terhune broke in, "that the mingling with such as visits at the Lodge has upset the young miss.
"Another cup of the tea, Mary Terhune, and make it stronger. I begin to feel the bitter in my toes." And while this talk and more like it was permeating Kenmore, Jerry-Jo, adorned and uncomfortable, did his own thinking and planned his own plans after the manner of his mixed inheritance.
"We were warned, of course," he said, in a normally dismal tone, "that it would be extremely difficult to set down the ship which carried Snookums, and that we could expect the final base to be anywhere from ten to thirty miles from the original, temporary base." He looked round at everyone, giving the impression of a collie which had just been kicked by Albert Payson Terhune.
Such was his intense love for the unknown, that any plausible fellow could induce him to see the advantages of owning a thousand acres of wild land to his own well-tilled homestead. The following week Mr. Terhune made his advent among us.
When I sit by those empty graves back of the pasture lot I seem to know that I must do the work of my boys as well as my own and the time's short! I'm over sixty." "And looking forty, Mrs. McAdam." The manners of her trade clung to Mrs. Terhune. "The shell doesn't count, Mary, if the heart of you is old and worn."
It was a great day for Kenmore! "She and him were together all the night," panted Long Jean, about noon, in the kitchen of the White Fish. "What's that?" called Mary McAdam from the closet. Jean repeated her choice morsel, and Mary Terhune, preparing the midday meal, thrilled.
"A lot," said Burnaby cryptically, and proceeded to apply himself to his salad, for he had refused the courses his lateness had made him miss. "Y'see," he said, after a moment's reflection, "it was this way and it's worth telling, for it's queer. I ran into this Terhune this afternoon at a club a big, blond Englishman who's been in the army, but now he's out making money.
"He may have it in his mind," soothed Mary Terhune, "but the lad's deep and far seeing like his Injun mother beg pardon, Jean, the term's a compliment, God save me!" "You've saved your face, Mrs. Terhune. Go on!" Jean had begun to resent, but the explanation mollified her. "More tea," she said quietly, "and you might stir the dregs a mite, Mrs.
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