Outing . e course which thisdead fisherman had tried to show was no answering this argument inbehalf of the doctrine of forgiveness. Itpossessed the majesty of absolute truth,splendid and flawless. After some timeCaptain Hoster said to himself: Thad Morris is coming back next I ve been waiting for him aboard thePathfinder. Waiting for what, God helpme, for what? He went out of doors and found Joe Hardand Ethan sitting on the bench The callof Foul Weather Jack came to them fromafar, mournful and insistent. CaptainHarry Hoster stared seaward withoutspeaking. At length he said
Outing . e course which thisdead fisherman had tried to show was no answering this argument inbehalf of the doctrine of forgiveness. Itpossessed the majesty of absolute truth,splendid and flawless. After some timeCaptain Hoster said to himself: Thad Morris is coming back next I ve been waiting for him aboard thePathfinder. Waiting for what, God helpme, for what? He went out of doors and found Joe Hardand Ethan sitting on the bench The callof Foul Weather Jack came to them fromafar, mournful and insistent. CaptainHarry Hoster stared seaward withoutspeaking. At length he said in a tone ofabrupt finality: Ill be here for the funeral, .CaptainHard. But I 11 be going back to my jobof stevedoring in New York before nextweek. I—I wont be able to wait for Cap-tain Thad Morris to come home. And ifAbel Grant could come back to us, hemight tell you the reason why. IN QUIET COVERS THE STORY OF A NORTH CAROLINA TURKEY HUNTBY MAXIMILIAN FOSTER WITH A DRAWING III COLOR BY LYNN BOGUE HUNT. ANUARYS sun cameriding over the edge ofthe distant hills, fillingall this Carolina landwith its bland andglowing radiance ofcloudless dawn. Frost. had fallen in the still,clear night; the fields gleamed with it,and in that quick air of early morning onelooked far and near, every detail of therolling landscape minutely shown — theacres of flowing broom, golden yellow;the browned, rusty scars of harvested cot-ton patches; the hollows chapped with thegullies of red, raw earth, and against thissweep of open country, a flank of theHebron woods rising like a shore of cliffs—woods where the wild turkey abandoned cornfield stood beside thewoodlands edge, a piece of tilled groundnow overgrown with ragweed and a fewlean stalks springing from last years crop;and toward this corner, in the growinglight, Buell and I ranged our way, the far-famed Bijah padding onward in the excuse me, suh, said Buell,with a quick glance at the sky, you sut-tenly will, suh, if I ask
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel
