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Mitchell, S. Weir (Silas Weir), 1829-1914

"Westways"

Pull off this boot. How are they all?"
"The Colonel he sent me."
"Indeed! How is he? I've not heard for a month."
"He's bad, Master John, bad--kind of forgets things--and swears."
"That's strange for him."
"The doctors they can't seem to make it out. He hasn't put a leg over a
horse, not since he was wounded." Evidently this was for Josiah the most
serious evidence of change from former health.
"How is Aunt Ann?"
Tugging at the boots Josiah answered, "She's just a wonder--and Miss
Leila, she's just as pretty as a pansy."
Penhallow smiled; it left a large choice to the imagination.
"Pansy--pansy--why is she like a pansy, Josiah?"
"Well, Master John, it's because she's so many kinds of pretty. You see
I used to raise pansies. That boot's a tough one."
"Have you any letters for me?"
"No, sir. They said I wasn't as sure as the army-post. Got a note
from Dr. McGregor in my sack. Hadn't I better get your horse over the
bridge--I liked his looks, and I asked a man named Bill who owned that
horse. He said you did, and that's how I found you. He said that horse
was a bad one. He said he was called 'Hoodoo.' That's unlucky!"
"Yes, he's mine, Josiah. You would like to change his name?"
"Yes, sir, I would. This boot's the worst!"
Penhallow laughed.


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