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1stmarket39.ru: A Blackjack Bargainer (Audible Audio Edition): O. Henry, John Pruden, Blackstone Audio, Inc.: Audible Audiobooks.


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A Blackjack Bargainer--O. Henry ()
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A Blackjack Bargainer by O. Henry ยท OverDrive: eBooks, audiobooks and videos for libraries
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Mixed Review Literature Unit A Blackjack Bargainer mixed review (print entire literature unit at once; includes options for multiple keys) A Blackjack Bargainer.


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Blackjack Bargainer (9 Mar. ). TV Episode | 30 min | Comedy. Yancey Gorey redeems himself from a complex financial situation using a rival between the.


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Get this from a library! A Blackjack bargainer. [William Wadsworth; Franklin Hall; Russell Simpson; Carlotta Carlton; Jessie Stevens; O Henry; Thomas A. Edison.


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If you're writing a A Blackjack Bargainer essay and need some advice, post your O Henry essay question on our Facebook page where fellow bookworms are.


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The NOOK Book (eBook) of the A Blackjack Bargainer (Illustrated) by O. Henry at Barnes & Noble. FREE Shipping on $35 or more!


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A Blackjack Bargainer audiobook written by O. Henry. Narrated by John Pruden. Get instant access to all your favorite books. No monthly commitment.


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A Blackjack Bargainer by O. Henry (). The most disreputable thing in Yancey Goree's law office was Goree himself, sprawled in his creaky old arm-.


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a blackjack bargainer

The "gang" had cleaned him out. The mountaineer took the chair Goree offered him. Goree was at a loss to account for the visit. He had been a borrower and a sponge, and it seemed that if he fell no lower it would be from lack of opportunity. She always seemed to hear, whatever her surroundings were, the scaly-barks falling and pattering down the mountainside. Somewhere in Mrs. One day a party of spectacled, knickerbockered, and altogether absurd prospectors invaded the vicinity of the Garvey's cabin. It was so still that Goree, reclining in his chair, distinctly heard the clicking of the chips in the grand-jury room, where the "court- house gang" was playing poker. Their descent upon Laurel had been coincident with Yancey Goree's feverish desire to convert property into cash, and they bought the old Goree homestead, paying four thousand dollars ready money into the spendthrift's shaking hands. The village of Laurel was their compromise between Mrs. But Yancey Goree was not thinking of feuds. His law business was extinct; no case had been intrusted to him in two years. Of late, old friends of the family had seen to it that he had whereof to eat and a place to sleep -- but whiskey they would not buy for him, and he must have whiskey. So she coldly vetoed Pike's proposed system of fortifications, and announced that they would descend upon the world, and gyrate socially. They who cast doubts upon Garvey's soundness of mind had a strong witness in the man's countenance. Bethel dozed in the tepid shade. The man from "back yan'" knew it as well as the lawyer did. Thar's somethin' you got what me and Missis Garvey wants to buy. The broken gambler had turned drunkard and parasite; he had lived to see this day come when the men who had stripped him denied him a seat at the game. The June day was at its sultriest hour. Soon wearying of his ostracism , Goree had departed for his office, muttering to himself as he unsteadily traversed the unlucky pathway. Pike lifted his squirrel rifle off the hooks and took a shot at them at long range on the chance of their being revenues. The treading out of that path had cost Goree all he ever had -- first inheritance of a few thousand dollars, next the old family home, and, latterly the last shreds of his self-respect and manhood. On the front seat sat a gaunt, tall man, dressed in black broadcloth, his rigid hands incarcerated in yellow kid gloves. Missis Garvey and me, we come f'om the po' white trash.{/INSERTKEYS}{/PARAGRAPH} To speak of his feud to a feudist is a serious breach of the mountain etiquette. Pike Garvey was little known in the settlements, but all who had dealt with him pronounced him "crazy as a loon. Goree, that sech things suits me -- fur me, give me them thar. And thus, at length, it was decided, and the thing done. I reckon you are mistaken about that. She says it ought to been put in the 'ventory ov the sale, but it tain't thar. We been recognized, Missis Garvey says, by the best society. But that ain't what I come fur to say, Mr. The sheriff, the county clerk, a sportive deputy, a gay attorney, and a chalk-faced man hailing "from the valley," sat at table, and the sheared one was thus tacitly advised to go and grow more wool. He could not help smiling, even in his misery, as he thought of the man to whom, six months before, he had sold the old Goree homestead. Laurel yielded a halting round of feeble social distractions comportable with Martella's ambitions, and was not entirely without recommendation to Pike, its contiguity to the mountains presenting advantages for sudden retreat in case fashionable society should make it advisable. After a drink of corn whiskey from a demijohn under the table, he had flung himself into the chair, staring, in a sort of maudlin apathy, out at the mountains immersed in the summer haze. The Settles and the Goforths, the Rankins and the Boyds, the Silers and the Galloways, hev all been cyarin' on feuds f'om twenty to a hundred year. When the Garveys became possessed of so many dollars that they faltered in computing them, the deficiencies of life on Blackjack began to grow prominent. Thus it happened that while the disreputable last of the Gorees sprawled in his disreputable office, at the end of his row, spurned by the cronies whom he had gorged, strangers dwelt in the halls of his fathers. Now no direct heir of the Gorees survived except this plucked and singed bird of misfortune. There, also, was the birthplace of the feud between the Gorees and the Coltranes. {PARAGRAPH}{INSERTKEYS}A Blackjack Bargainer. Released, he popped back into his hole like an angry weasel. A little breeze wafted the cloud to one side, and a new, brightly painted carryall, drawn by a slothful gray horse, became visible. A cloud of dust was rolling, slowly up the parched street, with something travelling in the midst of it. Pale-blue, unwinking round eyes without lashes added to the singularity of his gruesome visage. To the Coltranes, also, but one male supporter was left -- Colonel Abner Coltrane, a man of substance and standing, a member of the State Legislature, and a contemporary with Goree's father. From the open back door of the office a well-worn path meandered across the grassy lot to the court-house. She could always hear the awful silence of Blackjack sounding through the stillest of nights. But Adam reckoned without his Eve. Henry T he most disreputable thing in Yancey Goree's law office was Goree himself, sprawled in his creaky old arm-chair. Once the "revenues" had dragged him from his lair, fighting silently and desperately like a terrier, and he had been sent to state's prison for two years. The Rogerses, the Hapgoods, the Pratts and the Troys hev been to see Missis Garvey, and she hev et meals to most of thar houses. She had grown fat and sad and yellow and dull. Far below it the turbid Catawba gleamed yellow along its disconsolate valley. For so long a time the sounds in her ears had been the scaly-barks dropping in the woods at noon, and the wolves singing among the rocks at night, and it was enough to have purged her of vanities. Missis Garvey hev studied all about feuds. I sold out to you, as you yourself expressed it, 'lock, stock and barrel. The daily bouts at cards had arranged itself accordingly, and to him was assigned the ignoble part of the onlooker. Goree frowned ominously. Fortune, passing over many anxious wooers, made a freakish flight into Blackjack's bosky pockets to smile upon Pike and his faithful partner. Her stout form was armoured in a skintight silk dress of the description known as "changeable," being a gorgeous combination of shifting hues. But when the means came, she felt a rekindled desire to assume the perquisites of her sex -- to sit at tea tables; to buy futile things; to whitewash the hideous veracity of life with a little form and ceremony. We was pore as possums, and now we could hev folks to dinner every day. On the back seat was a lady who triumphed over the June heat. Trade was not. She sat erect, waving a much-ornamented fan, with her eyes fixed stonily far down the street. Later on, they offered the Garveys an enormous quantity of ready, green, crisp money for their thirty-acre patch of cleared land, mentioning, as an excuse for such a mad action, some irrelevant and inadequate nonsense about a bed of mica underlying the said property. His word was no longer to be taken. The feud had been a typical one of the region; it had left a red record of hate, wrong and slaughter. Garvey threw his slouch bat upon the table, and leaned forward, fixing his unblinking eyes upon Goree's. He had carved her countenance to the image of emptiness and inanity ; had imbued her with the stolidity of his crags , and the reserve of his hushed interiors. I cyan't say, Mr. Goree watched this solemn equipage , as it drove to his door, with only faint interest; but when the lank driver wrapped the reins about his whip, awkwardly descended, and stepped into the office, he rose unsteadily to receive him, recognizing Pike Garvey, the new, the transformed, the recently civilized. The best folks hev axed her to differ'nt kinds of doin's. The little white patch he saw away up on the side of Blackjack was Laurel, the village near which he had been born and bred. In the cabin far up on Blackjack's shoulder, in the wildest part of these retreats, this odd couple had lived for twenty years. The vehicle deflected from the middle of the street as it neared Goree's office, and stopped in the gutter directly in front of his door. There had come from "back yan'" in the mountains two of the strangest creatures, a man named Pike Garvey and his wife. Above it the mountains were piled to the sky. The last man to drap was when yo' uncle, Jedge Paisley Goree, 'journed co't and shot Len Coltrane f'om the bench. However Martella Garvey's heart might be rejoicing at the pleasures of her new life, Blackjack had done his work with her exterior. The rickety little office, built of red brick, was set flush with the street -- the main street of the town of Bethel. Missis Garvey likes yo' old place, and she likes the neighbourhood. His face was too long, a dull saffron in hue, and immobile as a statue's. Garvey's preference for one of the large valley towns and Pike's hankering for primeval solitudes. Bethel rested upon the foot-hills of the Blue Ridge. Happily he missed, and the unconscious agents of good luck drew nearer, disclosing their innocence of anything resembling law or justice. Pike began to talk of new shoes, a hogshead of tobacco to set in the corner, a new lock to his rifle; and, leading Martella to a certain spot on the mountain-side, he pointed out to her how a small cannon -- doubtless a thing not beyond the scope of their fortune in price -- might be planted so as to command and defend the sole accessible trail to the cabin, to the confusion of revenues and meddling strangers forever. They had neither dog nor children to mitigate the heavy silence of the hills. Society is what she 'lows she wants, and she is getting' of it. Most of the quality folks in the mountains hev 'em. But there's somethin' we need we ain't got. Garvey's bosom still survived a spot of femininity unstarved by twenty years of Blackjack. These things represented to him the applied power of wealth, but there slumbered in his dingy cabin an ambition that soared far above his primitive wants. One more chance -- he was saying to himself -- if he had one more stake at the game, he thought he could win; but he had nothing left to sell, and his credit was more than exhausted. His befuddled brain was hopelessly attacking the problem of the future maintenance of himself and his favourite follies.