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Updated: August 12, 2024
And as like as not has found a place to put up, while we're off on the wrong road." "How'll we ever get to brother Tip's, then?" propounded aunt Corinne. "Maybe we're in Missouri, or Iowa, and won't never get to the Illinois line!" "Humph!" remarked Robert her nephew; "do you s'pose folks could go to Iowa or Missouri as quick as this! Cars'd have to put on steam to do it."
After a little fruitless knocking with his hand, he was standing there with the disagreeable conviction upon him that he had got to get through the night, when a voice accosted him from behind. 'Caught, eh? said the voice. 'You won't go home till morning. Oh! It's you, is it, Mr Clennam? The voice was Tip's; and they stood looking at one another in the prison-yard, as it began to rain.
"A brisk jog homeward is just the thing before pulling off clothes and dropping in between the sheets." As Dick jogged along he remembered having noticed, on the way to the office, Tip Scammon in a new suit of clothes. "Tip's stock is coming up in the world," thought young Prescott.
It was a wonderful look, especially from a woman, as unique in its complete unconsciousness as in its warm goodwill; it was as soothing as the touch of her fine soft fingers must have been on Tip's hot head. I felt I could have curled myself up, as he did, at her feet and slept on for ever.
The fact was, that Tip's little striped fur coat was so filled up and overflowing with cheerful good-will to all, that he never could be made to understand that any of his relations could want to cut him; and therefore Featherhead looked down on him with contempt, and said he had no tact, and couldn't see when he was not wanted.
But one day he had risen with some formality to usher a formal caller to the-door, when, to his slight amazement and my secret delight, his chair an easy-chair of good proportions deliberately jumped up and hopped after him across the room. From this period the mystery "manifested" itself to his heart's content. Not only did the rocking-chairs, and the cane-seat chairs, and the round-backed chairs, and Tip's little chairs, and the affghans chase him about, and the heavy tête-
A hunting party came along once and saw that there was a town up there, and that was all." Otto rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. "Of course there must be some way to get up there. Couldn't people get a rope over someway and pull a ladder up?" Tip's little eyes were shining with excitement. "I know a way. Me and Uncle Bill talked it over.
"What are we going to do with this fellow, Dick?" asked Dave. "I'm wondering whether he ought to be arrested or not," Dick replied. "Fellows, I feel mighty sorry for Tip's father." And well might all three feel sorry. So, far as was known, this crime against Dick was the first offense Tip had committed against the law.
And this was why he lingered in the kitchen, not knowing just what to say. Kitty helped him. "Tip," said she, "I suppose they sing over at that Sunday school, don't they?" "I guess they do;" and Tip's eyes brightened. "Ever so many of them sing at once, and it sounds grand, I tell you. They play the melodeon, too: don't you want to go and hear it?" "Humph! I don't know.
As they sat down the old hound came cautiously down the steps, wheezing out a husky greeting. "She is too old to hurt any one," said Jimmy. "Is she yours?" "No, sir. Tip's mine. Listen!" he exclaimed, as the sharp yelp of a dog again broke the stillness. "That's Tip! He goes off and runs rabbits all by himself." "Perhaps he is after a fox." "No, sir; Tip won't run a fox."
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