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"You would have it," returned Average Jones with a smile. "And I seem to recall a lofty intimation on your part that there never was a cipher so tough but what you could rope, throw, bind, and tie a pink ribbon on its tail in record time." "Cipher, yes," returned the other bitterly. "That thing isn't a cipher. It's an alphabetical riot.

Beat together one tablespoon of butter and one level tablespoon of flour, and stir this into the boiling milk. Then season with one teaspoon of salt and one-fourth teaspoon of pepper, and continue the cooking one-half hour longer. The cooking should be done in a double boiler. The artichoke also makes a very good soup. Pick off from the solid green globes the outer tough petals.

But once fairly out of sight in the second-growth forest, he veered sharply to the right, touched his tough cattle-pony with the spurs, and headed at a racing pace straight for the old ruined house. Even from a distance the house appeared unmistakably done for, but not until he came close at hand could Bard appreciate the full extent of the ruin.

"I know something about you tough guys." "Oh, yeah?" "You're really just bad boys and you need to be read to." She reached for a book on the bedside table. "I am revisiting Anne of Green Gables, by Lucie Maude Montgomerie." "Good grief," Joe said. Isabelle opened to the first page and began reading calmly. Joe stretched his legs and looked at the ceiling. It had been a long few days.

"Pray for them that 'spitefully use you, the good book says," says Tom. "Pray for 'em!" said Aunt Chloe; "Lor, it's too tough! I can't pray for 'em." "It's natur, Chloe, and natur 's strong," said Tom, "but the Lord's grace is stronger; besides, you oughter think what an awful state a poor crittur's soul 's in that'll do them ar things, you oughter thank God that you an't like him, Chloe.

"If he was here to-night it portends a deal," said Joe, sharply. "It portends that the biggest 'tough, the biggest man-killer an' hoss thief in the country, is on the war-path, an' ther'll be trouble around 'fore we're weeks older." "Who is he?" "Who is he? Wal, I 'lows that's a big question.

"This must be tough on some of the farmers," observed Dale. "Think of trying to get the milk to the station in such weather." "Well, a farmer usually has enough to eat," answered Stuffer. "That counts for a good deal. Now if a fellow was snowbound and didn't have any grub " He did not finish but shook his head dolefully. To Stuffer such a fate was beyond words.

Then we laid into it. It was mighty hot work, and tough; so hot we had to move up into cooler weather or we couldn't 'a' stood it. Me and Tom took turn about, and one worked while t'other rested, but there warn't nobody to spell poor old Jim, and he made all that part of Africa damp, he sweated so.

It was too dark for him to see her eyes. The tears that lay in them could not drop their balm upon his heart. "She's as good as new," said he cheerfully, fingering the inner pocket of his coat. "She writes to me right along. Here's a picture-card that followed me here, mailed from the home that the man who gave his tough old hide to mend her found for her when she was well.

"We broke the Experiment in for a few days, and then tackled half a train for Providence. She would keep her water just about hot enough to wash in with the pump on. It was a tough day; I was in the front end half the time at every stop. The Kid did exactly what I told him, and was in good spirits all the time. I was cross. Nothing will make a man crosser than a poor steamer.