"I thought something must have happened to you," he said stiffly.
I have described at some length the condition of the farm labourers in Italy because it seems to me that it is important that those who are inclined to be discouraged about the Negro in the South should know that his case is by no means as hopeless as that of some others. The Negro is not the man farthest down. The condition of the coloured farmer in the most backward parts of the Southern States in America, even where he has the least education and the least encouragement, is incomparably better than the condition and opportunities of the agricultural population in Sicily.
The sergeant did not turn up the next spring, but the spring after he came to Jo Daviess County. He was a sergeant still, and wore his worsted chevrons with a pride as honest as a major-general wears his stars. The little widow was not so pale and disheartened as she had been. The sergeant told her that he had got good quarters for her, and the boy could go to the company school, and that a non-commissioned officer's wife had a good billet—to all of which the little woman agreed, and thought it a fine thing to be married to a great tall sergeant. And soon not only she and the sergeant quite forgot poor Kaintuck, but even the little boy grew up to think that the big kind sergeant was his only father.
After his two draws, Doc lost three games in a row and still had the Machine to face and then Sherevsky. His 1—6 score gave him undisputed possession of last place. He grew very depressed. He still made a point of squiring her about before the playing sessions, but she had to make most of the conversation. His rare flashes of humor were rather macabre.
The minutes passed. The Opalsens did not return.
“Didn’t you know he was wounded—where was it? Bull Run, I believe. In the head—”
Sandra said guilelessly, "Winning a game means nothing to you chess players, does it, unless you really do it by your own brilliancy?"
"He has been most frightfully decent to me," he said coldly.
Heaven’s deathless blue and earth’s eternal green.”
"It might break him down if he were badly crossed," he had said.
A little farther on we crossed the river and entered what Mr. Burns referred to as "my own district," Battersea, where he was born and where he has lived and worked all his life, except for one year spent as an engineer in Nigeria, Africa.
Hubert smiled, with the placatory air of a dog that has been threatened. He was standing with his feet crossed and rocked slowly from one to the other as he spoke.
"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Greaves significantly; and Trixie's mother sat silent, in rueful understanding.详情 ➢
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