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Fraser, William Alexander, 1859-1933

"Thoroughbreds"

I should like to pray for your
success even, Allis. It might be wrong; I might feel guilty; but if it
makes your father better, don't you think I'd be forgiven?"
"I'm sure you would, mother, and it would make me stronger. I'm so
glad. I didn't want to displease you. I wanted you to feel that I was
doing right. It will be lighter now; I sha'n't mind what anybody says
if you're with me, mother. Now everything will come out right; I know
it will. And if it does, if father gets strong, just out of
thankfulness, I'll coax him to try something else, for your sake,
mother."
"No, for his own, Allis. I think only of him in this matter." The
prospective commencement of the racing campaign seemed to foreshadow a
complete fulfillment of the doctor's prophecy should success smile upon
this modern Joan of Arc; for the bustle of preparation was music to the
ears of the stricken man, and he fought the lethargic fever of
discontent that was over him until his eyes brightened and his face took
on a hopeful look of interest.
"Brave little woman," he said to Allis, "it's a shame for a great hulk
as I am to lie up here, while you fight the sharks that were almost too
much for your father."
Then he spoke a little lower, as a man utters unfamiliar words for the
first time.


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