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Updated: May 21, 2025
The senator took one hand from his pocket. "How be you?" he said. Mr. Bixby was once more pulling down on his shoulder. "H-haow was it here?" he demanded. "Almighty funny," answered Senator Hartington, sadly, and waved at the lobby. "There wahn't standin' room in the place." "Jethro Bass Republican Club come and packed the entrance," explained Mr. Bixby with a wink. "You understand, Will?
There was no going back the thing to do was to come on, as unconcernedly as possible, not noticing anything, which Cynthia did, not without a little inward palpitating and curiosity, for which she hated herself and looked the sterner. The figure unfolded itself, like a Jack from a box. "You say the woman wahn't any to blame wahn't any to blame?" The poke bonnet turned away.
"M made all them bills out before you was chose?" said Mr. Braden. Mr. Crewe grew red in the face. "I am interested in these questions," he said stiffly. "Little mite hasty, wahn't it?" Mr. Braden remarked equably, "but you've got plenty of time and money to fool with such things, if you've a mind to. Them don't amount to a hill of beans in politics.
In short, many funny things had happened funny things to Sergeant Ephraim, but not at all to William Wetherell, who sympathized with Heth in his panic. "So Jethro Bass has become a great man," said Wetherell. "Great!" Ephraim ejaculated. "Guess he's the biggest man in the state to-day. Queer how he got his power began twenty-four years ago when I wahn't but twenty.
Bijah Bixby gazed with pardonable pleasure. "Guess there wahn't a mite of trouble about the river towns," he said, "I had 'em in my pocket. Will, let's amble round to the theatre. We ought to git in two acts." William Wetherell went. There is no need to go into the psychology of the matter.
There was some delay in gettin' to the street, but not much not much. All the Republican Clubs in the state couldn't have held 'em then, and the profanity they used wahn't especially edifyin'." "Peleg's a deacon you understand," said Mr. Bixby. "Say, Peleg, where was Al Lovejoy?" "Lovejoy come along with the first of 'em.
"This Airley's smart wahn't quite smart enough, though. His bright idea come a little mite late. Hunted up old Christy, got the key to his law office right here in the Duncan Block, went up through the skylight, clumb down to the roof of Randall's store next door, shinned up the lightnin' rod on t'other side, and stuck his head plump into the Opery House window." "I want to know!" ejaculated Mr.
Crewe is so fond of his townspeople that he couldn't resist doing this for them," and she indicated with a sweep of her eyeglasses the beatitude with which they were surrounded. "Wahn't no occasion to," said Mr. Braden. "What!" cried Mrs. Pomfret, who had been walking on ice for some time. "This hain't England is it? Hain't England?" "No," she admitted, "but " "Hain't England," said Mr.
But it was not precisely ardor that Eliphalet showed. The girl paused and examined him swiftly. There was something in the man's air to-day. "So you were not caught?" she said. Her words seemed to relieve some tension in him. He laughed noiselessly. "I just guess I wahn't." "How did you escape?" she asked, looking at him curiously. "Well, I did, first of all.
Al was so anxious to git through he hit Si Dudley in the mouth injured him some, I guess. Pity, wahn't it?" "Si hain't in politics, you understand," said Mr. Bixby. "Callate Si paid to git in there, didn't he, Peleg?" "Callate he did," assented Senator Hartington. A long and painful pause followed. There seemed, indeed, nothing more to be said.
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