MSL

MSL Your father did not care to speak about it." He turned once more to the door but Anson jumped up and caught him by the arm. "Bill," he gasped. "I don't know why Hinter built that fence, cross my heart, I don't. But I'll tell you all I know about the men who're runnin' the rig. I been workin' fer the tool-dresser after school, fer a quarter a night. I've heard quite a lot o' talk among them fellers. Blamed if I could make head er tail of most of it but they mentioned a feller by the name of Jacobs an' they seem plumb scared to death of him. Funny, too, 'cause he's never been 'round there a'tall. Nobody ever comes there but Hinter.","What?" The deacon gripped the boy's arm and shook him. "What's that you say?" he questioned eagerly.,"I'll tell you when I come back," says Geoffrey,—"if I ever do.","Where is Mona?",“Don’t I see what?”，"My dear, I behaved badly to you in that matter. Let me tell Oliver to call you Mrs. Rodney for the future. It is your proper name."，“If we’ve got to use it, Jerry,” he suggested, “don’t you think you had better tell me something about it now while we’ve got a chance? Then I’ll be of more use when we get down to the canyon.”，"Dr. Etwald, I suppose?"“That’s bul—dandy.”

Patricia flung herself on the fur rug that lay before the empty fireplace.,"I am certain of it. Etwald prophesied to my poor lad, in his charlatan way, that if he wed Miss Dallas, or even announced his engagement with her, his fate would be of life in death.",And Billy did not think of it as strange till Buzz’s grandmother called from behind the window curtain, “Delia, you surely won’t traipse through town with that crowd! How you will look!”,“Yes, but it is so sad.”,In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”,"Of course he does," cried Jen, wrathfully.,"An' the punt too?" he asked.,Everything was going smoothly when suddenly a catastrophe stopped short the circus, and left Moses greatly distressed. He inwardly complained that never yet was he “havin’ a good time but some orful thing happened to put a cloud over the sun.” The hens and chickens that had been pressed into the ranks of the circus performers were crowding round a swill-bucket which Moses had left tilted at a precarious angle on an upturned soap-box. In its zig-zag gyrations round the yard, the ostrich, to avoid the ubiquitous fowl, ran against the bucket and the odoriferous contents were splashed over the yellow-draped circus lady. The contents of the swill-pail trickled down Betty’s finery and dropped sadly from the pink headgear of the ostrich.,"And the child,—Miss Mona?" asks Geoffrey.,"I don't think ye have any call to say that to us, Miss Mona. 'Tisn't fair like, when ye know in yer own heart that we love the very sight of ye, and the laste sound of yer voice!",There is no disfigurement about him to be seen, no stain of blood, no ugly mark; yet he is touched by the pale hand of the destroyer, and is sinking, dying, withering beneath it. He has aged at least ten years within the last fatal hour, while in his eyes lies an expression so full of hungry expectancy and keen longing as amounts almost to anguish.,She did not answer, and without saying anything more he led her up over the bluff and out on the prairie..