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Lahoma by J. Breckenridge (John Breckenridge) Ellis
page 103 of 274 (37%)

"You see how it is, son," Willock remarked regretfully; "Lahoma
keeps pretty close to me, and I'm always a-leading her along the
wrong trails, not having laid out an extensive education when I was
planning the grounds I calculated to live in. When I got anything
to say, I just follows the easiest way, knowing I'll get to the end
of it if I talk constant. People in the big world ain't no more
natural in talking than in anything else. They builds up fences and
arbitrary walls, and is careful to stay right in the middle of the
beaten path, and I'm all time keeping Bill busy at putting up the
bars after me, so Lahoma will go straight."

"So that's why I'm glad to know you," Lahoma said gravely. "But
why did you want to know ME?" She fastened on him her luminous
brown eyes, with red lips parted, awaiting the clearing up of this
mystery.

Wilfred preserved a solemn countenance, "I've been awfully lonesome,
Lahoma, the last two years because, up to that time, I'd lived in
a city with friends all about town and no end of gay times
--and these last two years, I've been in the terrible desert. You
are the first girl I've seen that reminded me of home; when I saw
you and knew you were my kind, the way you held yourself and the
smile in your eyes--"

Bill interposed: "Don't you forget that binding, young man!"

"Of course not. But I don't know how to tell just what it means to
me to be with her--with all of you, I mean--but her especially,
because--well, I had so many friends among the girls, back home
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