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Hemphill, Vivia, 1889-1934

"Down the Mother Lode"

Look at the dandy, struttin'! Bob buys 'im all them fancy
togs an' loves to see 'im wearin' 'em. White hands, an' red cheeks, an'
straight nose like a gal. Swan, ef he wasn't so ornery an' long-limbed
I'd a mind to call 'im one. Ef 'twant for his hidin' behind Bob so,
I'd - "
What he'd have done was never known, for the whole room-full of
prankish, loud-voiced, roistering men was suddenly struck dumb by the
unwonted sound of a lady's voice out in the darkness.
Bull-doze reached her first, Bob next, and Handsome Harry third. She was
only a slip of a young thing and the fright she got from the kindly rush
of the old bulldog was immeasurably increased by Bob's frightful
caricature of a face. She turned, shuddering, to the handsome,
richly-decked young Englishman.
"My father and mother, sir, are very ill. I was going after a doctor,
but I am tired out. I can go no further. Oh, could one of you go on to
Angel's, whilst I rest with some lady of your town?"
Harry was apparently speechless from the thrall of her fresh young
beauty, because it was Bob who answered.


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