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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Condensed Novels"

Believe that there was always something mysterious in his
conduct. Remember distinctly how the family left home to go
abroad. Was putting up my back hair, last Saturday morning, when I
heard a ring. Says cook, "That's missus' bell, and mind you hurry
or the master 'ill know why." Says I, "Humbly thanking you, mem,
but taking advice of them as is competent to give it, I'll take my
time." Found missus dressing herself and master growling as usual.
Says missus, quite calm and easy like, "Mary, we begin to pack to-
day." "What for, mem?" says I, taken aback. "What's that hussy
asking?" says master from the bedclothes quite savage like. "For
the Continent--Italy," says missus--"Can you go Mary?" Her voice
was quite gentle and saintlike, but I knew the struggle it cost,
and says I, "With YOU mem, to India's torrid clime, if required,
but with African Gorillas," says I, looking toward the bed,
"never." "Leave the room," says master, starting up and catching
of his bootjack. "Why Charles!" says missus, "how you talk!"
affecting surprise. "Do go Mary," says she, slipping a half-crown
into my hand. I left the room scorning to take notice of the
odious wretch's conduct.


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