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Updated: June 13, 2025
And there was every indication, in the Westley home, that they were going to be very merry! Mrs. Westley had one fixed rule for her youngsters: "Work while you work and play while you play." So she and Uncle Johnny, behind carefully closed doors, planned all sorts of jolly surprises for the holiday week. But Jerry had a little secret, too, all of her own.
That careless use of the term "Boss" was afterward seen to be unfortunate for Solon. They remembered it against him. "That's right," said Westley Keyts. "Let's be diplomatic with him." "How would you begin, Westley, if you don't mind telling us?" Solon had already begun to shape a scheme of his own.
You've handled some bad horses in your time, and know more about it than I do; but I'd suggest that you put Westley he's a patient lad to look after the Black; give him quite a bit of work, and when you've got him right, try him out with something, and if he shows any form we'll pick out a soft spot for him. Let me see, he's a maiden fancy that, buying a four-year-old maiden!"
Not one of you children must peep inside of the cover of even a story, until I give back the key." Mrs. Westley pinched Jerry's cheek. "I want to see red rosies again, my dear girl." Christmas eve brought a glad surprise to the family in the unexpected arrival of Robert Westley.
The eyes of the suddenly urbane Westley glistened when he overheard this, but he fell to dissecting a beef without further sign. For better or worse, Miss Caroline and Little Arcady had exchanged impressions of each other. I met her by chance that morning and was charmed by her flattering implication of reliance upon myself.
There's an atmosphere in that house that is different, upon my word makes one think of the old stories of kings and queens who disguised themselves as peasants simple meal, everything sort of shabby but you couldn't give all that a thought, there was such a feeling of peace and happiness everywhere." John Westley actually had to stop for breath.
Diablo was throwing his nose fretfully up and down, up and down; grabbing at the bit; pirouetting from one side the course to the other; nearly pulling Westley over his neck one minute, as with lowered head he sought to break away, and the next dashing forward for a few yards with it stuck foolishly high, like a badmouthed Indian cayuse.
Deep-throated howls from full-chested wolves: "Come on you, Lauzanne! On, Westley, on! The Bay wins! The Dutchman The Dutchman for a thousand!" "I'll take " But the new voice was stilled into nothingness by the shrill, reawakening falsetto. "Go on, Westley! Lauzanne wins wins wins!" it seemed to repeat. Allis sank back into her seat. She knew it was all over.
She hated to think of such a possibility. "I thought of that," John Westley chuckled. "I said something about it to her. What do you think she said? She waited a moment before she answered me as though she was carefully considering it. 'Well, she said, 'anyway, one wouldn't be homesick for very long, would one? As though it'd be like measles or mumps.
His absence had been the cause of discussion and speculation among them, and the general verdict had been that there would be troublous times for him on the morrow. When the door closed, Mr. Westley leaned back in his chair, and regarded his nephew steadily from under a pair of bushy gray eyebrows which lent a sort of hypnotic keenness to his gaze. "You were at the ball-game yesterday?" he said.
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