Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 7, 2025
Still, it struck him that it would not be precisely the thing to call on Cissie immediately after Tump's arrest. It might look as if Then the thought came that, as a neighbor, he should stop and tell Cissie of Tump's misfortune. He really ought to offer his services to Cissie, if he could do anything. At Cissie's request he might even aid Tump Pack himself.
Along the lake lots of drift wood. I thought I better make a raft if I could. It was blowing very heavy from the west. I got my raft made. My tump line I made two pieces to tie the four corners of the raft, and my leather belt I made another piece, and a piece of small salmon twine I had at the other corner.
I I just happened to think how folks would gossip you coming here as soon as Tump was arrested." "Perhaps I'd better go," suggested Peter, uncomfortably. Cissie reached up and caught his lapel. "Oh, no, don't feel that way! I'm glad you came, really. Here, let's go through this way to the arbor. It isn't a bad place to sit." She led the way silently through two dark rooms.
Siner staggered back with flames dancing before his eyes. The soldier lunged after his toppling man with gorilla-like blows. Hot pains shot through Peter's body. His head roared like a gong. The sunlight danced about him in flashes. The air was full of black fists smashing him, and not five feet away, the bullet head of Tump Pack bobbed this way and that in the rapid shifts of his attack.
The black dowager in the kitchen received him in silence, with her thick lips pouted. When Peter observed it, he felt slightly amused at his mother's resentment. "Well, you sho had a lot o' chatter over signin' a lil ole paper." "She signed for ten dollars," said Peter, smiling. "Huh! she'll never pay it." "Said Tump Pack would pay it." "Huh!"
He leveled his pistol. "'Tention! Rat about face! March!" Peter turned and moved off down the noiseless path, walking with the stiff gait of a man who expects a terrific blow from behind at any instant. The mulatto walked twenty or more paces amid a confusion of self- protective impulses. He thought of whirling on Tump even at this late date.
These tump lines supported rather bulky wooden boxes running the lengths of the men's backs. Arrived at the rear, they deposited their burdens. One set to building a fire; the other to unpacking from the boxes all the utensils and receptacles of a hearty meal. The food was contained in big lard tins. It was only necessary to re-heat it.
'Pears lak dat knife won't stay in any one han'." He looked at it, curiously. "I mean about Tump," said Peter, impatiently. "O-o-oh, yeah; you mean 'bout Tump. Well, I thought Tump mus' uv borrowed a gun fum you. He lef' Hobbett's corner wid a great big forty- fo', inquirin' wha you is."
However, the Harvard man could not advocate a socialization of courtship when he himself would be the first beneficiary. The prophet whose finger points selfward is damned. Furthermore, all Niggertown would side with Tump Pack in such a controversy. It was no uncommon thing for the very negro women to fight over their beaux and husbands.
Peter's prolonged silence aroused certain suspicions in the old negress. She glanced at her son out of the tail of her eyes. "Cissie Dildine is Tump Pack's gal," she stated defensively, with the jealousy all mothers feel toward all sons. A diversion in the shouts of the children up the mean street and a sudden furious barking of dogs drew Peter from the discussion.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking