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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Darrel of the Blessed Isles"

"
The teacher went with him out under a sky bright with stars to the
chill and gloomy stable.
"Look at me," said Tunk, holding up the lantern as he turned about.
"Gosh all fish-hooks! I'm a wreck."
"What's the matter?" Sidney Trove inquired.
"All sunk in--right here," Tunk answered impressively, his hand to
his chest.
"How did it happen?"
"Kicked by a boss; that's how it happened," was the significant
answer. "Lord! I'm all shucked over t' one side--can't ye see it?"
"A list t' sta'b'rd--that's what they call it, I believe," said the
teacher.
"See how I limp," Tunk went on, striding to show his pace. "Ain't
it awful!"
"How did that happen?"
"Sprung my ex!" he answered, turning quickly with a significant
look. "Thrown from a sulky in a hoss race an' sprung my ex. Lord!
can't ye see it?"
The teacher nodded, not knowing quite how to take him.
"Had my knee unsot, too," he went on, lifting his knee as he turned
the light upon it. "Jes' put yer finger there," said he,
indicating a slight protuberance. "Lord! it's big as a bog spavin."
He had planned to provoke a query, and it came.
"How did you get it?"
"Kicked ag'in," said Tunk, sadly.


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