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But I reckon Huldy'll do for me, 'thout the Gardies, whatever they be." "Come, father," said Dame Hartley, "the child's tired now, an' I guess she wants to go upstairs. If you'll take the trunk, we'll follow ye." The stalwart farmer swung the heavy trunk up on his shoulder as lightly as if it were a small satchel, and led the way into the house and up the steep, narrow staircase.
An' de school-teacher, whut board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, she 'low', "Hallowe'en jes no Hallowe'en at all 'thout we got a jack-o'-lantern." An' li'l' black Mose he stop' a-grinnin', an' he scrooge' so far back in de corner he 'mos' scrooge frough de wall. But dat ain't no use, 'ca'se he ma say', "Mose, go on down to de pumpkin-patch an' fotch a pumpkin."
Starling coldly. "I was real put out about my preserves." "Have you had dinner?" "I never found I could live 'thout eating." "Who got dinner for you, and cleared away?" "Nobody. I did it myself." "For the men and all!" "Well, they don't count to live without eatin', no mor'n I do," said Mrs. Starling with a short laugh. "And you did it with one hand!"
He's come to help and to have the fun arterward; you sent 'round the invitation pretty promisc'us like, an' I calkerlate you can't ask him to leave 'thout makin' yerself mighty onpop'lar. Take my advice an' let him stay." So, much against his will, Enoch did so. But he and the Indian lad avoided each other and nothing Crow Wing did could gain any word of approbation from his young host.
Your hand's so clumsy, Mose, she thinks her time's come when she feels it in her mouth, and your fingers are so big you can't ketch holt o' that green stuff thout its slippin'!" "Mine ain't big; let me try," said a timid voice, and turning round, they saw little Elisha Simpson, his trousers pulled on over his night-shirt, his curly hair ruffled, his eyes vague with sleep.
I don't see how 'tis that I can't get no rest 'thout bein' roused up, when your pa can turn right over and sleep through thunder. Whar you goin' now?" Nicholas stopped and held a whispered colloquy with her from the back porch. "I'm goin' to drag the land some 'fore pa gets up," he answered. "Then I'm goin' in to town. You know he said I might."
"I guess it's so!" Cephas responded gloomily. "It's nip an' tuck 'tween him an' Mark Wilson. That girl draws 'em as molasses does flies! She does it 'thout liftin' a finger, too, no more 'n the molasses does. She just sets still an' IS! An' all the time she's nothin' but a flighty little red-headed spitfire that don't know a good husband when she sees one.
Rust can't get to eat none 'thout water, no more'n a deer can stay out of a salt lick, or Erne Moore can keep away from the habitaw gals, or Tit Moody can get his own consent to stop his tongue waggin' off tales 'bout how women winks down t' Tupper Lake when he's rowin' 'em." "Shouldn't think such a little water as you have used would make the gun hot enough to dry it out," I suggested. "Hot!
Mary sprang toward her, but the stronger woman hurried her away from the spot. "Come; take up the little one 'thout wakin' her. Three more of 'em's a-passin'. The little young feller in the middle reelin' and swayin' in his saddle, and t'others givin' him water from his canteen." "Wounded?" asked Mary, with a terrified look, bringing the sleeping child.
Mind you, I ain't sayin' nothin' 'ginst dis new man nur 'ginst dem w'ich chooses to follow 'long after his teachin's. Ise jes' sayin' dat so fur ez my jinin' in wid dis yere lodge is concern' you's wastin' yore breath. Better pass along, honey, to de nex' one on dat list of your'n, 'thout you's a mind to stay yere an' watch me dish up Jedge Priest's vittles fur 'im."
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