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Updated: June 4, 2025
Don't stand there like a tombstone. You won't? Well, I'll introduce myself." She laughed again, and then, with an excellent imitation of Patterson's lugubrious accents, said, "Mr. Spencer Tucker's wife that IS, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Spencer Tucker's sweetheart that WAS! Hold on!
M.A. Tucker's conclusion, that doubt develops at thirteen and that personal inference diminishes about that age. The children were given two accounts of the fall of Fort Sumter, one in the terms of a school history and the other a despatch of equal length from Major Anderson, and asked which was best, should be kept, and why.
Still from the tomb the voice of nature cries; Even in our ashes live their wonted fires! There is an admirable passage on this subject in Tucker's Light of Nature Pursued, which I shall transcribe, as by much the best illustration I can offer of it.
Crabtree to take to the city in the morning. Mr. Tucker's still going over things in the barn, and my feelings riz so I had to come away for fear of me and little Tucker both busting out crying." And over at the Briars the scenes of exodus being enacted were well calculated to touch a heart sterner than that of the gentle, sympathetic and maternal Mrs. Poteet.
All this is fine to see, without doubt, and finer still to do, but do you know, if I could have my choice and could see but one, I would choose to see that leviathan double-runner of a half-century ago swinging the curve at Captain Bill Tucker's corner, followed by that big wood-sled with the half of Ponkapoag's population on it, and hear the joyous Yankee shouts as they resounded all the way from the crest of the hill to George B.'s blacksmith shop.
I was in perfect despair, very much afraid of a sudden swerve on my mare's part sending us both down the precipice, and in equal dread of seeing F pulled off his saddle by Tucker's suddenly planting his fore-feet firmly together: F himself, with the expression of a martyr, looking round every now and then to say, "Can't you make him come on?" and I hitting wildly and vainly, feeling all the time that I was worse than useless.
Reuben Dale lived he lived to become as strong and able a hunter of the Rocky Mountains as ever he had been; he lived to take Loo to the western settlements, and squat down beside The MacFearsome's new farm, as a species of hunting farmer; he lived to become a respected member of the Reverend William Tucker's church in the wilderness, where he filled two pews with little Dales, which, as an Irish comrade remarked, was a dale more than he deserved; and last, but not least, he lived to urge, argue, badger, bamboozle, worry, and haul Jacob Strang up to that "p'int" at which he had so often stuck before, but over which he finally fell, and managed to secure that "dear Liz" who was destined to become the sunshine of his after-life.
She peeped into Uncle Tucker's room and assured herself by his sonorous breathing that rest at last was comforting him, and for a moment in her own room she bent over the little cot where the General and his two spotted servitors lay curled up in a tangle and fast in the depths of sleep.
For a time Christopher watched with him while the gold- and-crimson glory flamed beyond the twisted boughs of the old pine; then, turning his troubled face on Tucker's cheerful one, he asked deliberately: "Do you sometimes regret that you never married, Uncle Tucker?" "Regret?" repeated Tucker softly. "Why, no. I haven't time for it there's too much else to think about.
If she had lifted the spoon to her lips, as she always did with Uncle Tucker's and sometimes forgot and did with his, Everett would have And at this point he turned the bend and ran smash into the dramatic scene of a romance.
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