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He patted the horse's thin neck. "Come, ol' feller, I'll stuff you with good oats fer once," he promised. "Why, sakes alive!" cried his mother, "I never give Maurice a thought. O' course we'll have him, too. An' if there happens to be anybody else you'd like, you best say so now, Willium." "That I'll do," assented Harry, unhesitatingly. "Call up yer snake an' handle ut widout bein' bit, an' I'll help ye.".
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Conrad
"Oh no, oh no!" interposed Miss Acton; "she would not be our Lucy if she did." We have seen that the frame which bounded Mr Greyquill's portrait of honour was large. Most men recognising the handwriting would have denied themselves the right of reading this letter, because they had found it lying in[Pg 139] a public roadway, for two reasons: the handwriting was known to them, and the recent presence of the writer where that letter was found would have identified it as its owner's business in no wise to be intruded on by a man of honour. "They're wild if you make 'em wild, but if they get to know that you like 'em an' won't hurt 'em, they get real tame. I've got one flock I call my own. I fed 'em last winter when the snow was so deep they couldn't pick up a livin'. They used to come right into our barn-yard for the tailin's I throwed out to 'em." He glanced at her closely, struck by the odd note in her voice. "He seems a manly little chap," he said. "I must get to know him better.".
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