human
I reckon ye woz right, Mr. North, about my takin' these yar papers reg'lar. For I allow here's suthin' that may clar up the mystery o' that baby's parents. With the hesitation of a slowly grappling intellect, Joe sat down on the table and read from the San Francisco
gpt
Herald as follows:
human
Gin it to me, Dad, said Bessy pertly.
gpt
You never had any education, any way. Hear your accomplished daughter. With a mock bow to the new schoolmaster, and a capital burlesque of a confident school girl, she strode to the middle of the room the paper held and folded book-wise in her hands.
human
Ahem! Where did you leave off? Oh, 'the beautiful daughter of Terpsichore--whose name was prom-i-nently connected with a mysterious social scandal of last year--the gifted but unfortunate Grace Chatterton'--No--don't stop me--there's some more! 'The body of her child, a lovely infant of six months, has not been recovered, and it is supposed was washed overboard.' There! may be that's the child, Mr. North. Why, Dad! Look, O my God! He's falling. Catch him, Dad! Quick!