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Updated: May 8, 2025
Tuh de wood gitting place, tuh de sping, tuh de hoss lot, and evah whah. De anow wuz warm an soft. We piled up so much snow till hit took hit er half er year tuh melt. Dat snow stayed on de groun two months. Ah am de muthah uv five gulls and fo' boys. Didn nairy one uv mah gulls come in de pen till dey wuz mahried. Ah use tuh fish in er big ole fish pond rat down whah de wesson depot is now.
"Only Rivers's own .38 Smith & Wesson, in his room, and a lot of pistols out in the garage, that look like junk to me," Kavaalen said. "I'll show them to you." Rand nodded. "Pierre, you look around the shop; I'll see what this other stuff is." He followed Kavaalen through a door at the rear of the shop; the same one through which Cecil Gillis had carried the Kentucky rifle the afternoon before.
Wesson, "as to whether you would care to show me the rose garden, Miss McEachern, as you promised yesterday. Of all flowers, I love roses best. You remember Bryant's lines, Miss McEachern? 'The rose that lives its little hour is prized beyond the sculptured flower." Jimmy interposed firmly.
But the moon was at its full and would serve them better than the twilight itself. The German and New Englander, therefore, moved away from camp, following the course of the Xingu, while their two friends quickly vanished in the forest. Each carried his repeating Winchester and his Smith & Wesson.
This was reassuring as Mrs. Wesson was supposed to know, and anyway there were signs of it already a first tentative outbreak of parties, little dinners cropping up here and there. People who did things were trailing back from Europe, bringing new clothes and ideas with which to abash the stay-at-homes.
With a growl more like the voice of a wild animal than of human beings, one draws his sword and the other picks up a thick knobbed stick that he had dropped in order to the better pinch and sound my packages. Without giving them time to reveal whether they seriously intend attacking me, or only to try intimidation, I have them nicely covered with the Smith & Wesson.
I guess when I move out of the chair I can put a name to the man that's coming after me." "Sure, Councillor, I am little more than a recruit," said McMurdo; but his face showed what he thought of the great man's compliment. When he had returned home he made his own preparations for the grim evening in front of him. First he cleaned, oiled, and loaded his Smith & Wesson revolver.
"You are cold," said the mother. "Won't you come near the fire?" Morel jumped out of his armchair. "Come and sit you here!" he cried. "Come and sit you here!" "No, dad, keep your own chair. Sit on the sofa, Gyp," said William. "No, no!" cried Morel. "This cheer's warmest. Come and sit here, Miss Wesson."
So distinguished a figure as Boye Mayer could not live long unnoticed in San Francisco. He had not been a month at the hotel before items about him appeared in the press. Mrs. Wesson, society reporter of the Despatch, after seeing him twice on Kearney Street, found out who he was and rustled into the Argonaut office for a word with Ned Murphy. Mr.
He pronounced them excellent weapons, as were the Smith & Wesson revolvers with which they were furnished. "Your outfit is all right," he said, "but it remains to be seed whether you know how to handle 'em." "We cannot claim to be skilful," was the modest remark of Jack, "but we have had some experience at home, though when we hunted there it was mostly with shotguns."
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