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AT 8 OANLEY
In whatever quarter you are looking when you first hear the cuckoo in the season, you will be travelling in that direction before the year is over.
"Oh! Good Lord!" Arthur gesticulated. "It isn't that. I'm a bit out of sorts, that's all, touch of indigestion, I expect. No need to resort to desperate remedies for that."
Off we went post-haste to the port, where, on entering a tavern, being mindful of my obligations as a gentleman, I ordered and paid for a bottle of wine for our rescuer, at which he was greatly pleased, though, like most of his countrymen, he was modest enough in the use he made of it. The little he did take, however, was sufficient to warm him up, when, forgetting we did not know a word of what he was saying, he poured out a long rigmarole to us in Spanish, which he wound up by whipping out a stiletto—a long, thin dirk much used in those countries—and gave us to understand he would have killed the Frenchman with much pleasure. Not content with this show of friendship, he pulled out a purse, very comfortably filled, and offered me a part; but I refused with my best manner, and with the help of my Latin made him know I was sufficiently supplied.
“James” ses Mr. Wolley in sturn commanding toans, “You will cut the lons as intercated by your sister. John” ses he “I will expect you to rayse addecut vigitables for the table.”
Mr. Lin-coln was in his State-house room when that let-ter, with scores of oth-ers, came in. He could but smile at the child’s wish, but he took the time to an-swer
The guess Amos made concerning the meaning of the call turned out to be correct. Evidently the Colonel had left strict instructions looking to the comfort of his young guests while he was away, and the cook had not forgotten them.
“If there is anything else——?”
shiver down the spine of the working class Socialist is extraordinarily alluring and congenial to them, namely, the official and organized side. They love to think of houses and factories open to competent inspection, of municipal milk, sealed and certificated for every cottager’s baby, of old age pensions and a high and rising minimum standard of life. They have an admirable sense of sanitation. They are the philanthropic and administrative Socialists as distinguished from the economic revolutionaries.
The whole of the present system is riddled with discontents. One factor is the enhanced sense of the child in middle-class life: the old sentiment was that the parent owned the child, the new is that the children own the parents. There has come an intensified respect for children, an immense increase in the trouble, attention and expenditure devoted to them—and a very natural and human accompaniment in the huge fall in the middle-class birth-rate. It is felt that to bear and rear children is the most noble and splendid and responsible thing in life, and an increasing number of people modestly evade it. People see more clearly the social service of parentage,
Hartford, deciding that sleep was impossible, got up and cold-showered. Dressing in fresh Class B's, he walked out to join Paula at the Status Board. The TV screen showed Bond, the sheathed Dardick-rifle slung over his shoulder, pacing back and forth in front of the jeep, glancing from time to time toward the walls of Kansannamura, white in the light of the skyful of stars. He was nervous, evidently aware of the fact that Kansas was largely unexplored, her potential for midnight mayhem untested. Bond spoke across his shoulder. "The lieutenant has been gone for a quarter hour, Ma'am," he said. "Do you want me to go in and ask him to come out?"
With Paula's agreement, Hartford pressed the microphone-switch to talk with Bond. "Have you tried to tap Piacentelli on his suit-receiver, Corporal?"
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