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Updated: May 6, 2025
Tim's predictions were speedily verified. The very morning after they arrived before the fort, the garrison made a sally, fell upon the troops, and killed one of their officers. The whole of the new levies took to their heels, and fled away from the fight. Clive, with his three officers, threw himself among them and, for some time, in vain attempted to turn the tide.
All this while the amusement of the listeners had been growing gradually beyond control, and at this point smothered explosions of laughter from one and another fell on Tim's ears, like the dropping of musketry fire. But he did not guess its meaning, and continued turning towards Tidswell, and waiting for the conclusion of the story.
Whenever you want a lad with a strong arm and a thick stick, Tim's the boy." "Thank you, Tim," Ralph said, heartily. "Now you had better let the surgeon look at your head. You have got some nasty cuts." "Sure, and my head's all right, your honor It isn't a tap from a Frenchman that would break the skull of Tim Doyle."
"I made one mistake in promising to marry you when I loved another man. I won't repeat it." "But" Tim's face expressed sheer wonder and amazement "you don't still care for Garth Trent for that blackguard? Oh!" remorsefully, as he saw her wince "forgive me, Sara, but this war makes one feel even more bitterly about such a thing than one would in normal times."
He watched for Tim's signals, and tried to put the ball where Tim wanted it. The batters hit him freely. When the practice ended he was worried. If older players could hit him like that "Forget it," said Ted. "Fielding bunts for ten minutes took a lot of your sap. You'll go in fresh tomorrow. Isn't that right, Tim?" "Sure," said the catcher. "And another thing," said the captain.
The corners of Tim's mouth dropped, and his face became grave. "Is it, miss?" he asked soberly. "Now, listen to me, Tim, and I will teach you logic. Of course you know what logic is?" "Is it a pain here?" asked Tim, pointing to the region below his waistcoat, the twinkle returning to his eye. Molly sternly repressed a tendency to giggle. "No, logic is the art of reasoning," she replied, gravely.
"Say, Mark," he said, "them two was just intended for one another you know it I see you know it. God picked 'em out for one another. I know it. You know it, too. But it's hard not to be picked yourself ain't it?" Tim's minute! God keep me from such another! It was all so plain now. The fire was dying away. The hands of the clock were crawling off another hour, and still he did not come.
As Miss La Creevy sat on a large old-fashioned window-seat, where there was ample room for two, it was also natural that Tim should sit down beside her; and as to Tim's being unusually spruce and particular in his attire that day, why it was a high festival and a great occasion, and that was the most natural thing of all.
He evidently had not recovered from the injuries he had received in the coils of the anaconda; and when I asked Uncle Paul if he thought he would recover, he shook his head. "He will be the first among us to go," he answered in a most dispirited way. Jose was groaning, crouched down in the bows of the boat. Tim's compassionate heart was moved; he went and placed himself by his side.
No amount of coaxing could prevail upon, him to approach the dreadful dragon that had carried off the tin dipper, and every body else declined the same honor. Finally Wort made this offer: "I'll go down to-Old Tim's boat, and Tim may be hanging round, and I'll see what I can see." This was a relief to the club, and entirely safe for Wort. "I'll go at once," he said, and away he went.
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