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"Wa-al I dunno!" returned the man, finding the matter suddenly serious, when it was brought so close home to him. "Of course, we expect to pay for it. Only we'd like to have you cut the rent in two for the first three months," said Janice, quickly. "Say! that might be all right," the druggist observed, more briskly. "But I don't know about all these harum-scarums collecting around this corner.

"Ya-as, something of a hurry," drawled Milton in a disguised voice. "Wa-al? Turn out an' go by if you are." "No, thankee, I'll just let m' nag nibble the hay out o' your box an' take it easy." "Sure o' that?" "You bet high I am." Milton nudged Bettie, who was laughing with delight. "It's Bill an' his bays. He thinks there isn't a team in the country can keep up with him.

It won't give you anything." "Calc'late you're right." "Listen to reason, man. You want something. What is it?" "Me?... Um!... I'm a plain kind of a man, Mr. President, with a plain kind of a wife. Hain't never met Mandy, have you? Wa-al, her and me is perty contented with life. We got a good hardware store ..." "Rot! What do you want?"

"Don't you dare say I did!" He chuckled. "Wa-al, ye meant it. Come now didn't ye? An' he is a mighty young feller ter be teachin' school. 'Specially with sech big girls an' boys in it. He'll have ter fight the boys, it's likely, an' I shouldn't wonder if the big gals set their caps for him." "I'm afraid you're a very reckless talker, Mr. Dexter," sighed Janice.

No matter what happens, I always think there's a silver lining to the cloud. Now, why should I be like that? Why shouldn't I despair, like other people?" Strange ventured the suggestion that she had been born with a joyous temperament. "Wa-al, pretty well for an old gal!" screamed the parrot ending in a croaking laugh. "I'm sure I don't know," Miss Jarrott mused.

Tempted to lapse into prose, it proceeded to cry: "Wa-al, Polly, how are you to-day? Wa-al, pretty well for an old gal," after which there was a minute of inarticulate grumbling. When coffee was poured, and the young man's cigarette alight, Miss Jarrott seized the opportunity which her sister-in-law's soft murmur at the table had not allowed her. "It's really funny you should be Mr.

"Whuffor?" demanded his father, eyeing him slowly. "'Cause the old boards and rails was so rotten that I jest burned 'em up," declared his son. "You know folks could see it from the street, an' it looked untidy." "Wa-al," drawled Uncle Jason, with only half a sigh. Janice could scarcely keep from clapping her hands, this so delighted her.