Will you drive over to Trumet Center, and deliver a note and get a package for me?
Then you can come back here, and I shall be ready to start for home." "Drive! Drive nothin'! The blacksmith's out, and won't be back for another hour.

His boy's there, but he's a big enough lunkhead to try bailin' out a dory with a fork, and that buggy axle is bent so it's simply got to be fixed.

I'd no more go home to Ketury with that buggy as 'tis than I'd--Oh! my land of love!" The ejaculation was almost a groan.

There at the corner, ear trumpet adjusted, and spectacles glistening, stood Debby Beasley.

Bailey appeared to wilt under her gaze as if the spectacles were twin suns.
Miss Dawes looked as if she very much wanted to laugh.