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Updated: June 20, 2025
Yo try John's key in that there door' he pointed to the cupboard by the fire 'an yo'll find it fits ex act. Then, thinks I, where's the key as belongs to that 'ere cupboard? An John an I goes upstairs to look about us, an in noa time at aw, I sees a 'ole in the skirtin. I whips in my finger lor bless yer! I knew it wor there the moment I sets eyes on the hole. He held up the key triumphantly.
The last because he is the best; because once, for a long-drawn unit of time, James Moore had thought him to be the worst. When at length you take your leave, the old man accompanies you to the top of the slope to point you your way. "Yo' cross the stream; over Langholm How, yonder; past the Bottom; and oop th' hill on far side. Yo'll come on th' house o' top.
Asking his way to the hotel from the first darky that he met, he was answered most courteously. "Thar's no hotel hyar, sah," the negro said, "but Mr. Ephraim Jones entertains the visitin' strangehs, sah, an' if yo' go right on to that big yaller house an' ask fo' Mr. Jones, sah, Ah jes' knows yo'll be right welcome."
"But how does it come that if you are only statuary, you can move about, and talk, and breathe?" I demanded. "Yo'll have to ask mistah Joop'ter 'bout dat," the boy answered. "He done gave us dese gif's, an' we's a-usin' ob 'em. De way it happened was like o' dis. Me an' him was a standin' upon a petterstal down in one o' dem mahble yards what dey calls gall'ries in Paris.
If yo' ain't in, yo' can easy get a latchkey. Young man, yo'll find out things some day, and yo'll drop to it all. "I guess I was too late with yo'. That's about the size of it. I guess Altacoola'll talk to yo'," went on the Mayor. "If that feller Fairbrother of Altacoola had been able to hold his tongue maybe I wouldn't know so much. But now I know what's what.
'And Measter Hall makes a good offer, for t' man as is going to come in will take t' stock and a' t' implements; and if mother if we if I like, th' furniture and a' 'Furniture! said Kester, in grim surprise. 'What's to come o' t' missus and thee, that yo'll not need a bed to lie on, or a pot to boil yo'r vittel in? Sylvia reddened, but kept silence. 'Cannot yo' speak?
Halstead; I'm glad to be here. It's a grand night. And looking through the open doorway at the great expanse of snow-covered moor, he said, 'What a beautiful world God's world is is it not? Shut that dur afore th' kitchen's filled wi' snow. When yo're as owd as me yo'll noan be marlockin' i' snow at this time o' neet. What's life to young uns is death to owd uns, yo' know.
"I misdoot yo'll iver see your dog agin, mister," Sam'l repeated, as if he was supplying the key to the mystery. "Noo, Sam'l, if yo' know owt tell it," ordered his master. Sam'l grunted sulkily. "Wheer's oor Bob, then?" he asked. At that M'Adam turned on the Master. "'Tis that, nae doot. It's yer gray dog, James Moore, yer dog. I might ha' kent it," and he loosed off a volley of foul words.
An' don' yo' know all 'bout a boat? Course yo' does. Now yo' can sail us right off home. An' when yo' pa comes home 'mos' skeered to def, 'cos he cyan't fin' yo', thar' yo'll be," and Estralla chuckled happily as if all their troubles were over. But Sylvia was not so sure.
Yo'll fin' it cluss to de do', sah." "All right," and Jack went into the barn, where he saw a telephone receiver and transmitter on a little shelf near the door. He took down the receiver and called up the number which Bucephalus had given him, waiting a moment for an answer. "Hello, who is this?" he presently heard over the wire. "John Sheldon. I was told to call you up.
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