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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Shavings"

This is a free country."
"Yes, it is. For decent people it is absolutely free. The other
sort have to be put where they can't interfere with that freedom.
Whether you, Babbit, remain free or not depends entirely upon what
you do--and say. Is this perfectly clear?"
Phineas did not answer the question directly. For a moment he
stood there, his fists clenching and unclenching, and his eyes
snapping. Then he turned away.
"All right," he said, sullenly. "I hear what you say. Now I can
go, I presume likely--unless you've got some more lyin' and
bullyin' to do. Get out of my way, Shavin's, you fool."
But Grover had not finished with him.
"Just a minute," he said. "There is one thing more. I don't know
what it is, and I don't wish to know, but evidently you have been
saying, or threatening to say, something concerning this lady, Mrs.
Armstrong, which should not be said. You are not to mention her
name. Do you understand that?"
The little hardware dealer almost jumped from the floor as his rage
again got the better of him.
"The blazes I ain't!" he shrieked. "Who says I ain't? Is that any
of your business, Mr.--Mr. Brass Monkey? What's you or the United
States gov'ment got to say about my mentionin' names? To the devil
with the United States and you, too! You hear that?"
Major Grover smiled.


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