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Back to the Woods by Hugh McHugh
page 59 of 74 (79%)
cut-glass vase in the gladness of my heart.

"Go to the kitchen!" she said sharply to the newcomers, whereupon
they both turned in unison and looked the old lady all over.
Finally they decided to discharge Aunt Martha, for the oldest
member of the troupe folded her arms decisively and said, "Sure, it
ain't in any lunatic asylum I'll be afther livin', bless th'
Saints! If yez have a sinsible moment left in your head will yez
give us th' car fare back to th' city, and it'll be a blessed hour
for me whin I plants me feet on th' ferryboat, so it will!"

Uncle Peter checked the fiery course of the piano stool and began
to make his double chin do a gurgle, whereupon the youngest of the
two female impersonators handed him a glare that put out his
chuckle and he started the piano stool again at the rate of 45
revolutions per minute.

"Th' ould buffalo over there showed us up to th' spare room,
thinkin' to be funny," she who was fated never to be our cook, went
on, "and if I wasn't in a daffy house and him nothin' but a bug
it's the weight of that chair he'd feel over his bald spot. Th'
ould goosehead, to set us down on th' porch and talk to us for an
hour about th' landshcape and th' atmusphere, and to ask me, a
respectable lady, what kind of exercise I was partial to! It's a
Hiven's own blessin' I didn't hand him a poke in th' slats, so it
is!"

Uncle Peter, with palpably assumed indifference, slid off the piano
stool and faded behind the furthermost window curtain, while I went
up to the belligerent visitor and said, "On your way, Gismonda; the
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