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I did not know how much he had overheard, but I determined to make one more effort to get the pistol. "Quick," I whispered to Petrak. "Hand me the gun and free my hands!" "It ain't me," whined Petrak. "It's the writin' chap here. Get along out," and he struck me over the head and I knew I had lost, although there was a doubt that Petrak would ever have given me the pistol.
'It must be somethin' wery uncommon indeed, as could perduce a letter out o' any friend o' mine, replied Sam, shaking his head dubiously; 'nothin' less than a nat'ral conwulsion, as the young gen'l'm'n observed ven he wos took with fits. It can't be from the gov'ner, said Sam, looking at the direction. 'He always prints, I know, 'cos he learnt writin' from the large bills in the booking-offices.
"Why," said she, in a patent surprise, "'course you know. I've always heard about you, writin' books an' all. An' that's the kind you be, too. You're" she paused to marshal her few words and ended in an awed tone "you're that way, too. When folks are in trouble, you're so sorry it 'most kills you." This was a blow staggering enough to hit his actual heart and stop it for a beat.
Th' fire departmint was called to put Jools out, but wather niver touched him. Th' sewer gang wint down an' blocked th' dhrains, an' Jools soon had inspiration f'r a year's writin'. At last accounts th' garrison was still holdin' out bravely again a witherin' fire iv canned food, lobsters, omelets, an' hams.
At present they die; it ain't big enough; there ain't room. If he sais he hante time to hear you, and asks you to put it into writin', do you jist walk over to his table, take up his lignum vitae ruler into your fist, put your back to the door, and say 'By the 'tarnal empire, you shall hear me; you don't go out of this, till I give you the butt eend of my mind, I can tell you.
If I had imagination enough for that I'd be writin' novels like Miss Dwight." "I believe they'd do better than you think. Well, this friend isn't quite so much absorbed in society and poker and dress. She's more like well, there's Mrs. Ruyler, for instance. She was very much like the rest of us, and now we never see her. She's as devoted to ranching as her husband."
I can't give you much idee of it by writin', nobody can, but I can probably describe it so you can see it goes ahead of your own clock on the kitchen wall or mantelry piece. To begin with how long do you spoze the minute hand is?
"Will you give me your assurance now that you will go, to be our guest again subsequently?" "In writin' and in words, Mr. Wilfrud!" "Answer me, ma'am." "I will, Mr. Wilfrud; and Mr. Braintop's a witness, knowin' the nature of an oath. There naver was a more sacrud promus. Says Pole, 'Martha " Wilfrid changed his tactics.
Meg leaned back so far that she could discern a glint of yellow hair in the darkness. The cuif was about to light his pipe. Meg stopped him. "Nane o' yer lichts here, cuif," she said; "it's time ye were thinkin' aboot gaun ower the hill. But ye haena' telled us yet what's queer aboot the lad." "Weel, woman, he's aye write writin', whiles on sheets o' paper, and whiles on buiks."
An' the second gal" his voice faltered "she went ter free school, l'arned mo' still o' readin' an' writin' an' cipherin', an' taught school two year down on Bird Creek, an' war goin' ter be married ter a good man, well-ter-do, who had built her a house, not knowin' ez God hed prepared her a mansion in the skies. She is livin' thar now!
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