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Updated: May 11, 2025
She's most killed my little brother giving him whiskey so's to make him look sick when she takes him out begging. Look here!" She lifted the shawl that was wrapped about the child. Tode leaned over and looked at the little face. It was a pitiful little face so white and thin, with sunken eyes and blue lips so pitiful that it touched even Tode's heart, that was not easily touched.
Why it's to say a little prayer to God before you eat just to thank him, you know." A little gleam of satisfaction shone in Tode's eyes. "Do good people do that?" he asked. "Why, yes all the folks I ever lived with when I was a girl. Deacon Small's family, and Esquire Edward's family, and all, used to." "Every time they eat?" "Every single time." "That's nice," said Tode, heartily.
And the next day their sympathy took the practical form that Tode had suggested, for every one of them that had any money to spend, spent it at "Tode's Corner," so that his stand was cleared again, but in a very satisfactory fashion a fashion that filled his pockets with dimes and nickels. Sundays were Tode's dreariest days.
Oh I'll be some; I'll have a yellow bow one of these days for a cravat, see if I don't!" And this was the hight and end and aim of Tode's ambition. "Come," said Pliny Hastings, halting before the hotel, and addressing his companion, "father said if it snowed hard when school was out to come in here to dinner." "Well, go ahead, then," answered his friend, gaily.
He wants to come to me," and she allowed him to take the child from her arms. As he felt himself lifted in that strong grasp, Little Brother smiled again, and nestled with a long breath of content against Tode's dirty jacket. "See he likes me!" cried the boy, his face all aglow with the strange, sweet delight that possessed him.
And you you whom he picked up out of the street, you whom he has treated as if you were his own son I tell you, boy, you'll think you've been struck by lightning when the bishop orders you out of his sight. He never forgives deceit like yours." Tode's face paled and his lips trembled as he listened, but he would not give way before his tormentor. His silence angered the secretary yet more.
Someway there was in Tode's heart a dull ache, a longing aroused that night, and which nothing but the All-seeing, All-pitying Love could ever soothe. "There were fourteen people in prayer-meeting," the Rev. John informed his wife. "The two deacons of whom I spoke, and several other good men.
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