Excerpt: ...whip Mizzooruh all night an' all day, ez a rule," observed Pete Cawthon, Councillor from Lost Leg. "'Tis a long road that has no turnin', Gove'nuh," said F. Jackson Gilet, more urbanely. He had been in public life in Missouri, and was now President of the Council in Idaho. He, too, had arrived on a mule, but could at will summon a rhetoric dating from Cicero, and preserved by many luxuriant orators until after the middle of the present century. "True," said the Governor, politely. "But here sits the long ...
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Excerpt: ...whip Mizzooruh all night an' all day, ez a rule," observed Pete Cawthon, Councillor from Lost Leg. "'Tis a long road that has no turnin', Gove'nuh," said F. Jackson Gilet, more urbanely. He had been in public life in Missouri, and was now President of the Council in Idaho. He, too, had arrived on a mule, but could at will summon a rhetoric dating from Cicero, and preserved by many luxuriant orators until after the middle of the present century. "True," said the Governor, politely. "But here sits the long-suffering bank, whichever way the road turns. I'm sleepy." "You sacrifice yo'self in the good cause," replied Gilet, pointing to the poker game. "Oneasy lies the head that wahs an office, suh." And Gilet bowed over his compliment. The Governor thought so indeed. He looked at the Treasurer's strong-box, where lay the appropriation lately made by Congress to pay the Idaho Legislature Pg 141 for its services; and he looked at the Treasurer, in whose pocket lay the key of the strong-box. He was accountable to the Treasury at Washington for all money disbursed for Territorial expenses. "Eleven twenty," said Wingo, "and only two hands mo' to play." The Governor slid out his own watch. "I'll scahsely recoup," said Wingo. They dealt and played the hand, and the Governor strolled to the window. "Three aces," Wingo announced, winning again handsomely. "I struck my luck too late," he commented to the on-lookers. While losing he had been able to sustain a smooth reticence; now he gave his thoughts freely to the company, and continually moved and fingered his increasing chips. The Governor was still looking out of the window, where he could see far up the street, when Wingo won the last hand, which was small. "That ends it, suh, I suppose?" he said to Hewley, letting the...
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Seller's Description:
Remington, Frederic. Good. No Jacket. 8vo-7¾"-9¾" Tall. Red cloth boards have light wear, spinecover sunned. Pages are clean, text has no markings, binding is sound.
