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Old Lady Number 31 by Louise Forsslund
page 42 of 124 (33%)
Darby himself had surprised her; then, recognizing Abe and recalling
that Samuel's winter visits were invariably paid in the afternoon, she
broke into a shamefaced laugh.

"Oh, is that you, Brother Abe? Don't tell the others what you found me
doing. These," with a wave of her delicate, blue-veined hands over the
trunk and its contents, "are all old love-letters of mine. Do you think
I'm a silly old goose to keep them cluttering around so long?"

"Wa'al,"--Abe with an equally deprecatory gesture indicated Angy's
horsehair trunk in the far corner of the loft,--"yew ain't no more
foolisher, I guess, over yer old trash 'n me an' Angy be a-keepin' that
air minin' stock of mine. One lot is wuth 'bout as much as t'other."

Recovering the envelop that she had dropped, he squinted at the
superscription. "Not meanin' ter be inquisitive or personal, Sister
Blossy," a teasing twinkle appearing in his eye, "but this looks dretful
familitary, this here handwritin' does. When I run the beach--yew've
heard me tell of the time I was on the Life-savin' Crew over ter Bleak
Hill fer a spell--my cap'n he had a fist jest like that. Useter make out
the spickest, spannest reports. Lemme see," the twinkle deepening,
"didn't the gals say yew was a 'spectin' somebody ter-day? Law, I ain't
saw Cap'n Sam'l fer ten year or more. I guess on these here poppin'
trips o' his'n he hain't wastin' time on no men-folks. But, Blossy, yew
better give me a chance ter talk to him this arternoon, an' mebbe I'll
speak a good word fer yer."

Blossy, not always keen to see a joke, and with her vanity now in the
ascendant, felt the color rise into her withered cheek.

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