Is that superstition, Thatcher?
I'm not superstitious,--not particularly,--but we've all got some of it in our hides.

After that second time--it was away back in the seventies, when I was preaching for a spell in 'Frisco--I kept looking for the third experience that I felt would come." "Oh, of course it did come!" cried Allen eagerly.
"Well, that third time it wasn't a loose leaf torn out and stuck on a plank, or just an old weather-stained book; it was a copy that had been specially bound--a rare piece of work.

I don't care particularly for fine bindings, but that had been done with taste,--a dark green,--the color you get looking across the top of a pine wood; and it seemed appropriate.

Emerson would have liked it himself." The sheet-iron stove had grown red hot and Harwood flung open the door.
The glow from the fire fell full upon the dark, rugged face and the white hair of the minister, who was sitting on a soap-box with his elbows on his knees.

In a gray flannel shirt he looked like a lumberman of the North.