It was also learned that their mother had died before their father had taken the homestead, and therefore they were left s to fight their own battle. This government ought to be indicted for running a gambling game, robbing children,
children of a soldier, at that. If I could have had just a few tears on tap, with that hospital talk, and you boys being poor and s—shucks! If a firing line of veteran soldiers can be heart- ened, surely the spirit and courage of
waifs needed fortifying against the coming win- ter. “We may not be very han’some to the naked eye, and we may not wear our handk’chiefs in our shirt cuffs, but there ain’t no widders and s doin’ our washin’, and a man can walk away from his house, stay a month, and find it there when he comes back.” Their joints were limber, and their legs unsteady; one and all were ed, too, for in that babel of sound no untrained ears could catch a mother’s low. If I wanted more money inside a year or two, I would have to work for it just as if I were an without a dad who writes checks on demand. That was long, long ago, when the came into the Campbell family. There was a subdued exclamation from Manners, but Pete went on, “Seems he was the uncle of this Bull; took Bull in when Bull was
ed, because he had to, not because he want- ed to, and he raised Bull up to be a sort of general slave around the place. All this about a camel–” a devil and an ostrich and an child in one,” as we have been told–but remember that often in the solitary bush one’s animals are one’s only companions, that on them one’s life depends. The romantic fact that Lois was the of white captives to the Senecas, and had living neither kith nor kin, impressed Angelina sentimentally, and Lana with an insatiable curiosity, if not with suspicion. This ‘ere ‘s for the relief of widders and s. Why, I could tell you of many s
who–whose stories were different.” Mrs. Lar- kin died, and little Fay was left an with no known relative. But let me tell you when your duty’s done here that I will have a word to say about your future. It’ll be news to you to learn I’m an . If you were half a man you’d go out an’ kill him yourself, an’ not leave a lot of widows an’ ed children!” Whatever she was– or waif, left alone in the world by a murdering band of Sioux – – an unfortunate girl to be cared for, succored, pitied–none of these considerations accounted for the change that his power over her had wrought in him. He had lis- tened to a moan in his keen ear; he had felt a call of something helpless; he had found a gleam of chestnut hair; he had stirred two other men to help him befriend a poor, broken-hearted, half- crazed girl. I’m an . Them as wish- es to contribute anything toward the will find a hat handy.” The woodpeckers only learned how Miss Mary was an ; how she left her uncle’s house, to come to California, for the sake of health and independence; how Sandy was an
, too; how he came to California for ex- citement; how he had lived a wild life, and how he was trying to reform; and other details, which, from a woodpecker’s viewpoint, undoubtedly must have seemed stupid, and a waste of time. “I understand,” he began, “that Melissa Smith, an, and one of my scholars, has talked with you about adopting your profession. I’ll bet a doughnut he’s an , though.” The father that will not support his own child is not–does not–is worse than if they were s.”
children of a soldier, at that. If I could have had just a few tears on tap, with that hospital talk, and you boys being poor and s—shucks! If a firing line of veteran soldiers can be heart- ened, surely the spirit and courage of
waifs needed fortifying against the coming win- ter. “We may not be very han’some to the naked eye, and we may not wear our handk’chiefs in our shirt cuffs, but there ain’t no widders and s doin’ our washin’, and a man can walk away from his house, stay a month, and find it there when he comes back.” Their joints were limber, and their legs unsteady; one and all were ed, too, for in that babel of sound no untrained ears could catch a mother’s low. If I wanted more money inside a year or two, I would have to work for it just as if I were an without a dad who writes checks on demand. That was long, long ago, when the came into the Campbell family. There was a subdued exclamation from Manners, but Pete went on, “Seems he was the uncle of this Bull; took Bull in when Bull was
ed, because he had to, not because he want- ed to, and he raised Bull up to be a sort of general slave around the place. All this about a camel–” a devil and an ostrich and an child in one,” as we have been told–but remember that often in the solitary bush one’s animals are one’s only companions, that on them one’s life depends. The romantic fact that Lois was the of white captives to the Senecas, and had living neither kith nor kin, impressed Angelina sentimentally, and Lana with an insatiable curiosity, if not with suspicion. This ‘ere ‘s for the relief of widders and s. Why, I could tell you of many s
who–whose stories were different.” Mrs. Lar- kin died, and little Fay was left an with no known relative. But let me tell you when your duty’s done here that I will have a word to say about your future. It’ll be news to you to learn I’m an . If you were half a man you’d go out an’ kill him yourself, an’ not leave a lot of widows an’ ed children!” Whatever she was– or waif, left alone in the world by a murdering band of Sioux – – an unfortunate girl to be cared for, succored, pitied–none of these considerations accounted for the change that his power over her had wrought in him. He had lis- tened to a moan in his keen ear; he had felt a call of something helpless; he had found a gleam of chestnut hair; he had stirred two other men to help him befriend a poor, broken-hearted, half- crazed girl. I’m an . Them as wish- es to contribute anything toward the will find a hat handy.” The woodpeckers only learned how Miss Mary was an ; how she left her uncle’s house, to come to California, for the sake of health and independence; how Sandy was an
, too; how he came to California for ex- citement; how he had lived a wild life, and how he was trying to reform; and other details, which, from a woodpecker’s viewpoint, undoubtedly must have seemed stupid, and a waste of time. “I understand,” he began, “that Melissa Smith, an, and one of my scholars, has talked with you about adopting your profession. I’ll bet a doughnut he’s an , though.” The father that will not support his own child is not–does not–is worse than if they were s.”
Pingback: What's Canadian at Cordite? Sandy Pool to Shane Rhodes - Arc Poetry