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Updated: June 1, 2025
When it comes to recommendations, he's got one mighty good one written on his face," "You think so, do you?" "That's what I think, Jed. He's the goods best of company, a straight-up rider, and a first-rate puncher. Ask any of the boys." "I'm using my eyes, Dick. They tell me all I need to know." "Well, use them to-morrow. He's going to take a whirl at riding Dead Easy.
Her heart, by the way, instantly went out to Timothy. Jed was another proposition. He had thick, overhanging eyebrows, and a mouth that loved to make trouble and laugh over it. He was going to be hard to conquer. She wasn't sure the conquering would be interesting, either. Margaret stood by the desk, watching them all with a pleasant smile.
I was beginning to understand, and to be more alarmed than ever. "What are you doing here in Denboro?" I demanded. Captain Jed answered for him. "He's here because I telegraphed for him yesterday," he said. "I wired him to come straight home and take charge of the bank. I had fired you, like the dumb fool I was, and I wanted him to take command. He got here on the mornin' train."
Heywood's Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels. There is no river in this country which presents in its course, scenes more beautifully romantic than the little Jed.
On winter nights champion story-tellers like Jed Morrill and Rish Bixby would drop in there and hang their woollen neck-comforters on the pegs along the wall-side, where there were already hats, topcoats, and fur mufflers, as well as stacks of whips, canes, and ox-goads standing in the corners.
And when I asked her what purr-gatory meant she said, 'Never mind, and. . . . Oh, I forgot!" in consternation; "she told me I mustn't tell anybody she said it, either. Oh, dear me!" Jed hastened to reassure her. "Never mind," he declared, "I'll forget you ever did say it. I'll start in forgettin' now. In five minutes or so I'll have forgot two words of it already.
Mamma says things like forgetting the screwdriver are your ex-eccen-tricks. Is this what you've been thinking about a nice eccen-trick or the other kind?" Jed slowly shook his head. "I I don't know," he groaned. "I dasn't believe There, there! That's enough of my tricks. How's Petunia's hair curlin' this mornin'?"
They remembered having once heard Jed Sanborn speak of Peter Peterson as an old fellow who lived among the hills bordering Lake Cameron. Peterson was a hermit, and having been crossed in love when he was a young man, he hated the sight of a woman. "My name is Charley Dodge," said Snap. "My father owns a share in the Barnaby saw mill." And then the leader of the club introduced his chums.
The fact that most of them were Gatholians and that Gahan could lead rescuers to the pit where A-Kor, the son of U-Thor's wife, was confined, convinced the Jed of Gathol that they would meet with no rebuff at the hands of U-Thor.
Charles and Jed Winslow were by this time good friends. The young man usually spent at least a few minutes of each day chatting with his eccentric neighbor. They were becoming more intimate, at times almost confidential, although Phillips, like every other friend or acquaintance of "Shavings" Winslow, was inclined to patronize or condescend a bit in his relations with the latter.
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