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Updated: May 31, 2025
But you've set me thinking whether by mistake or not, where's the matter! I never thought what come o' the old horse, a'ter all his four shoes takes to shinin' at oncet! For the old smith when he drops his hammer I have thought about him. Lord! to think o' that anvil never ringin' no more to this here fist o' mine!"
It'll be a good riddance." "Were you ever ruled off the track?" I asked Blister, as the boy, exhaling clouds of cigarette smoke, returned to the slow walking of his horse. He studied in silence a moment. "Yep once," he replied. "I got mine at New Awlins fur ringin' a hoss. That little ole town has got my goat." "When was this?" I asked. "The year I first starts conditionin' hosses," he answered.
The fresh, clear voice of the child rang through the trees, stealing the stricken heart away from the lure of the river: "Will you come back home, where the young larks are singin'? The door is open wide, and the bells of Lynn are ringin'; There's a little lake I know, And a boat you used to row To the shore beyond that's quiet will you come back home?
The aged feet, the eager youthful feet, the children's feet, all, all walkin' to the sound of the bells. Thoughts of the happy youthful feet that set out to walk side by side, at their ringin' sounds. Thoughts of the aged ones grown tired, and goin' to their long dreamless sleep to their solemn sound.
I could heah the ringin' o' David's ax, ez he chopped away, an'h hit seemed ter be sayin' ter me cheefully all the time: 'Heah I am hard at work. The smoke from some brush-piles that he'd sot afire riz up slowly an' gently, fur thar wuz no wind a-stirring. The birds sung gayly 'bout their work o' nest-buildin', an' I couldn't help singin' about mine.
"They're comin'," he said, as he returned after his third trip. "The bells are ringin', an' they're a swarmin' up the hill, two ingines, an' a ruck o' boys an' men. Melindy, she's keepin' the laundry door locked, an' a lettin' on me in." Mrs. Marchbanks came hurrying back before the crowd. Some common, ecstatic little boys, rushing foremost to the fire, hustled her on her own lawn.
Didn't I tell ye, Larry, not to be afther ringin' at the owle gintleman's knocker? Ain't ye got no sinse at all?" "Misther Donnehugh," responded Mr. O'Rourke with great dignity, "ye're dhrunk again." Mr. Donnehugh, who had not taken more than thirteen ladles of rum-punch, disdained to reply directly. "He's a dacent lad enough" this to Mrs. Bilkins "but his head is wake.
"Mandy ain't lost her eyesight none either." Washy's thin whine broke through the guffaw: "I seen a picture at Paulmouth once't about a feller and a girl lost in the woods o' Borneo. It was a stirrin' picture. They was chased by headhunters, and one o' these here big man-apes tackled 'em what d'ye call that critter now? Suthin' like ringin' a bell." "Orang-outang," suggested Lawford. "That's it.
Doctor Quimby's been there twice already, and the telephone's been goin', and and My time! you ought to seen her face! 'Twas just as white as as WHERE did I put that letter?" His "pawing" became more frantic than ever. His wife stepped forward and seized him by the arm. "Stop it, I tell you!" she commanded. "Stop it! Who's sick? Whose telephone's ringin'? What letter are you talkin' about?
One of the amazing things that happened during the winter was the elopement of Miss Amanda Hill with a cowboy. Pan did not like this fellow very well, but the incident heightened his already magnificent opinion of cowboys. Pan never forgot Lucy's first day of school when he rode over with her sitting astride behind him, "ringin' his neck," as a cowboy remarked.
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