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"There is,—a reason not to be surpassed. And as to the parlor,"—in a melancholy tone,—"I could not be happy there, or anywhere, just at present. Unless, indeed,"—this in a very low but carefully distinct tone,—"it be here!","Which one?" Maurice asked sarcastically. "The good one er the blacked one?","Then don't address me!",He sighed and turned to glance back at the cottage resting in the hardwood grove. It looked very homey, very restful to him, beneath its vines of clustering wild-grape and honeysuckle. It was home—home it must be always. And Mary loved it just as he loved it; this he knew. She was a fine woman, a great helpmate, a wonderful wife and mother. She was fair minded too. She loved Billy quite as much as she loved her own son, Anson. Billy must be more careful, more thoughtful of her comfort. He would have a heart to heart talk with his son, he told himself as he went on to the barn.,“They’d look purtier, Glory, ef you’d put more colors in,” commented Mrs. Wopp.,“We’ll play there’s a strike in the saw-mills, Dutchy, and this is scab labor,” Billy excused amiably. And for a fact the white cotton string carried the messages quite safely from the “Front,” where Jimmy and George laid out the “line” over wonderful grades, across impossible gorges; and “wired” back for further orders. Harry Potter was the operator at the “Front,” and Vilette,—“Women do operate, you know,” she said,—Vilette was the proud holder of “the key” at Headquarters, where Clarence Hammond strutted around as Messenger; and because he was the “son of the Boss,” bullied his Cousin Harry unmercifully.,The “half moon” was brought forthwith and was eaten with great relish.,"'No ghost kin harm where lies this charm,'" he recited solemnly. "Now if you fellers feel like beatin' it, why beat it; but so long as I'm grabbin' onto this left hind foot of a graveyard rabbit I don't run away from no ghost—not even old man Scroggie's.","My daughter, sir!" cried Captain Acton.,What a shame, what a shame that he should be the poorest rider of all! On the way back he whipped Bob so that the horse finally ran, puffing, coughing, and stumbling along.,His mutterings rumbled along, a series of submerged imprecations. He paused for breath and as soon as he had accumulated enough for his dire purpose, he swore what was to him a long and fearful oath.,“That’s good enough for me, then,” he said, sleepily. And no one ever heard him mention again his unexpected addition to the scene..