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The Story of Sugar

Creator: Bassett, Sara Ware, 1872-1968
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"It'll be a cracker-jack game," mused Van. "I'd give something to be there. You don't suppose we could get off at noon and go, do you?" "Not on your life! Right now, after vacation? What do you take this school faculty for--an entertainment committee? You seem to forget we'd have to cut algebra, and English, and gym." "I shouldn't care." "I should. I'm working this trip, and can't afford to miss recitations," was Bob's sharp reply. "As for you, you can afford to miss them even less than I can--you know that. Put it out of your head. When you can't do a thing there is no use thinking about it and wishing you could." "I see no earthly harm in talking about it." "I do. It just keeps you stirred up." "Then what did you mention it for in the beginning?" "I don't know. I wish to goodness I hadn't," Bob declared. "Well, in spite of your opinions I repeat I'd give a fiver to see that game Saturday."
The Bible, King James version, Book 8: Ruth

Book 08 Ruth 08:001:001 Now it came to pass in the days when the judges ruled, that there was a famine in the land. And a certain man of Bethlehemjudah went to sojourn in the country of Moab, he, and his wife, and his two sons. 08:001:002 And the name of the man was Elimelech, and the name of his wife Naomi, and the name of his two sons Mahlon and Chilion, Ephrathites of Bethlehemjudah. And they came into the country of Moab, and continued there. 08:001:003 And Elimelech Naomi's husband died; and she was left, and her two sons. 08:001:004 And they took them wives of the women of Moab; the name of the one was Orpah, and the name of the other Ruth: and they dwelled there about ten years. 08:001:005 And Mahlon and Chilion died also both of them; and the woman was left of her two sons and her husband.
"You can't, so cut it out and let me finish this theme. Every time I've started to write you've broken in and driven every blooming idea out of my head. Now quit it. You better pitch into your own work for to-morrow. Dig out all the Cicero you can, and later I'll help you with the rest." With finality Bob wheeled his chair around and proceeded to submerge himself in his task. But not so Van. He took up his book, to be sure, but over the top of it his eyes roved to the world outside, and fixed themselves dreamily on the line of hills that peeped above the tips of the red maples budding in the school campus. He was far away from Colversham and its round of duties. In imagination he moved with a gay, eager crowd through the gateway leading into the great city ball ground. He could hear the game called; watch the first swirl of the ball as it curved from the pitcher's hand; catch the sharp click of the bat against it; and join in the roar of applause as the swift-footed runner sped to second base. Everybody would be at that opening game! Not to go when it was within trolley distance was absurd. What was algebra, English, or a little wall-scaling compared to such