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Updated: June 17, 2025
I knowed her very nature, which was all forgiveness to me at the bottom, though seemingly so spiteful and hard." "Yet you wanted to have this Rose Budd, who is only too young, and handsome, and good for you." "I was tired of being a widower, Jack; and Rose is wonderful pretty. She has money, too, and might make the evening of my days comfortable.
Budd spread the blanket, which he had taken from the back of his horse, on the ground and lay down. Hardly five minutes passed when he was wrapped in sound slumber. To prevent himself from becoming unconscious, Grizzly rose and walked slowly around and among the herd.
About the street they loitered lovers hand in hand eating fruit and candy and drinking soda-water, or sat on the curb-stone, mothers with babies at their breasts and toddling children clinging close all waiting for the celebration to begin. It was a great day for the Hon. Samuel Budd.
I only spoke of her capture as a thing likely to take place soon, if the Mexicans got her; so that her qualities were of no great account, unless it might be her speed and that you know was excellent, Jack." "And you regret that brig, Stephen Spike, lying as you do on your death-bed, more than anything else." "Not as much as I do pretty Rose Budd, Jack; Rosy is so delightful to look at!"
"Yes, there are plenty of 'em," assented Budd; "we've met 'em before; you'll find 'em as far north as the Saskatchewan and as low down as the Rio Grande. But I say, Grizzly, they were two slick ones; I never seen finer work." "Nor me either; if they had been satisfied with taking our hosses we'd never seen 'em agin.
In 1808 Peter Plymley's Letters were collected and published in a pamphlet, and the pamphlet ran through sixteen editions. "The government of that day," wrote Sydney Smith in 1839, "took great pains to find out the author; all that they could find out was that they were brought to Mr. Budd, the publisher, by the Earl of Lauderdale.
To the southward, whence Budd Hankinson had ridden, several horsemen were in sight, coming from the direction of the cattle-ranges. They were approaching at a walk, something they would not do unless serious cause existed. The messenger had been sent ahead to break the news to the sad and anxious hearts. "Budd," she said, "you have not told us about father."
"Done!" shouted my partner. "Doc Watson, you hold the stakes," he added, turning to me; "here's my five." "And here's my five," said Budd, with a smile, as he handed me a five-pound note to match Holmes's. "That's it. I'm always the goat," I grumbled, as I shoved the kale in my pocket.
When we got up to the loft we found that it covered the entire upper floor of the building; was at least two hundred feet long by a hundred and fifty feet wide, and except for a small space just around the head of the stairs, was filled up eight feet deep with odorous hay and piles of straw. Of course, not a trace of that scoundrel Budd was to be seen.
After injuring 'em by rapid driving for a good many miles they would have paid no more attention to 'em, and let us find 'em as best we could." "Yes," assented Budd, "they bit off more'n they could chaw, and so lost the hosses. But, Grizzly, have you noticed there's been several guns shot off around the country to-night?"
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