XX Category: Susan Glaspell

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The Preposterous Motive

The Governor was sitting alone in his private office with an open letter in his hand. He was devoutly and gloomily wishing that some other man was just then in his shoes. The Governor had not devoted a large portion of his life to nursing a desire of that nature,

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The Last Sixty Minutes

“Nine–ten–” The old clock paused as if in dramatic appreciation of the situation, and then slowly, weightily, it gave the final stroke, “Eleven!”

The Governor swung his chair half-way round and looked the timepiece full in the face. Already the seconds had begun ticking off the last hour of his official life.

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“Out There”

The old man held the picture up before him and surveyed it with admiring but disapproving eye. “No one that comes along this way’ll have the price for it,” he grumbled. “It’ll just set here ’till doomsday.”

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For Love of the Hills

“Sure you’re done with it?”
“Oh, yes,” replied the girl, the suggestion of a smile on her face, and in her voice the suggestion of a tear. “Yes; I was just going.”

But she did not go. She turned instead to the end of the alcove and sat down before a table placed by the window.

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Freckles M’Grath

Many visitors to the State-house made the mistake of looking upon the Governor as the most important personage in the building. They would walk up and down the corridors, hoping for a glimpse of some of the leading officials, when all the while Freckles McGrath, the real character of the Capitol, and by all odds the most illustrious person in it, was at once accessible and affable.

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A Jury of Her Peers

When Martha Hale opened the storm-door and got a cut of the north wind, she ran back for her big woolen scarf. As she hurriedly wound that round her head her eye made a scandalized sweep of her kitchen. It was no ordinary thing that called her away…

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The Anarchist: His Dog

Stubby had a route, and that was how he happened to get a dog. For the benefit of those who have never carried papers it should be thrown in that having a route means getting up just when there is really some fun in sleeping, lining up at the Leader office–maybe having a scrap with the fellow who says you took his place in the line–getting your papers all damp from the press and starting for the outskirts of the city.

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How the Prince Saw America

They began work at seven-thirty, and at ten minutes past eight every hammer stopped. In the Senate Chamber and in the House, on the stairways and in the corridors, in every office from the Governor’s to the custodian’s they laid down their implements and rose to their feet. A long whistle had sounded through the building. There was magic in its note.

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At Twilight

A breeze from the May world without blew through the class-room, and as it lifted his papers he had a curious sense of freshness and mustiness meeting. He looked at the group of students before him, half smiling at the way the breath of

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The Plea

Senator Harrison concluded his argument and sat down. There was no applause, but he had expected none. Senator Dorman was already saying “Mr. President?” and there was a stir in the crowded galleries, and an anticipatory moving of chairs among the Senators.

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