The Best American Short Stories ... and the Yearbook of the American Short Story

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Houghton Mifflin Company, 1918
 

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Page 143 - I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill ; but time and chance happeneth to them all.
Page 256 - Aid. I suppose she felt she couldn't do her part, and then you don't enjoy things when you feel shabby. She used to wear pretty clothes and be lively, when she was Minnie Foster, one of the town girls singing in the choir. But that — oh, that was thirty years ago. This all you was to take in ? MRS.
Page 263 - She— come to think of it, she was kind of like a bird herself— real sweet and pretty, but kind of timid and— fluttery. How— she— did— change.
Page 247 - I'd spoke to Wright about it once before; but he put me off, saying folks talked too much anyway, and all he asked was peace and quiet — guess you know about how much he talked himself. But I thought maybe if I went to the house and talked about it before his wife, and said all the women-folks liked the telephones, and that in this lonesome stretch of road it would be a good thing — well, I said to Harry that that was what I was going to say — though I said at the same time that I didn't know...
Page 266 - I'd come over here once in a while! That was a crime! That was a crime! Who's going to punish that?
Page 188 - Ich weiss nicht, was soil es bedeuten, Dass ich so traurig bin; Ein Marchen aus alien Zeiten, Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
Page 261 - I've not been here for so long. There was a man around last year selling canaries cheap, but I don't know as she took one; maybe she did. She used to sing real pretty herself.
Page 268 - No, Mrs. Peters doesn't need supervising. For that matter, a sheriff's wife is married to the law. Ever think of it that way, Mrs. Peters?
Page 269 - Oh - windows,' said the county attorney scoffingly. 'We'll be right out, Mr Hale,' said the sheriff to the farmer, who was still waiting by the door. Hale went to look after the horses. The sheriff followed the county attorney into the other room. Again - for one final moment - the two women were alone in that kitchen. Martha Hale sprang up, her hands tight together, looking at that other woman, with whom it rested. At first she could not see her eyes, for the sheriff's wife had not turned back since...
Page 249 - And then she — -laughed. I guess you would call it a laugh. I thought of Harry and the team outside, so I said a little sharp : "Can't I see JOhn?" "No," she says, kind o' dull like. "Ain't he home?" says I. "Yes,

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