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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Eben Holden, a tale of the north country"

'
'It wa'n't the teacher,' I said.
'Must have fit then.'
'Fit hard,' I answered, laughing.
'Try t' walk on ye?'
'Tried t' walk on me. Took several steps too,' I said stooping to
brush my trousers.
'Hm! guess he found it ruther bad walkin' didn't he?' my old friend
enquired. 'Leetle bit rough in spots?'
'Little bit rough, Uncle Eb - that's certain.'
'Better not go hum,' he said, a great relief in his face. 'Look 's if
ye'd been chopped down an' sawed - an' split - an' throwed in a
pile. I'll go an' bring over some things fer ye.'
I went with my friend, who had suffered less damage, and Uncle
Eb brought me what I needed to look more respectable than I felt
The president, great and good man that he was, forgave us, finally,
after many interviews and such wholesome reproof as made us all
ashamed of our folly.
In my second year, at college, Hope went away to continue her
studies in New York She was to live in the family of John Fuller, a
friend of David, who had left Faraway years before and made his
fortune there in the big city.


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