"Well, getting even a paper--what you said--from old Clute is equal
to extracting solid gold from anybody else. He's the stingiest man
in sev'n states. He don't care any more for a two dollar bill than
he does for his right eye. I bet she gave him ether before he let
go."

"Oh, she works all the old bachelors and widowers that way," said
Mrs. Detwiller, with a mixture of contempt and awe. "Invites 'em to
a dinner party or two around Christmas marketing time, and begins to
talk about how pretty the shops are and how tempting everything she
wants is; says she saw a nimitation bronze clock at Strouther and
Streckfuss's that it almost broke her heart to leave there. But o'
course she couldn't afford to buy those kind of things for herself
now when she's got to remember all her dear friends, and she runs on
and on and the old batch growls, 'Stung again!' and goes to Strouther
and Streckfuss's and tells Mr. Streckfuss to send Mrs. Budlong that
blamed bronze clock she was admiring. And that's how she gets
things. I could do it myself if I'd a mind to."

Mr. Detwiller felt that there was more envy than truth in this last
remark, and he was rash enough to speak up for justice: "You could if
you'd a mind to? Yep. If you'd a mind to! That's what somebody
said about Shakespeare's plays. 'I could a wrote 'em myself if I'd a
mind to,' says he, and somebody else said, 'Yes, if you'd a mind to,'
he says. And that's about it. Any body could do what Mizzes Budlong
does if they had the mind to; but the thing is, she's got the mind
to. She goes after the gifts--and gits 'em. She don't almost git
'em, and she ain't goin' to git 'em. She gits 'em. And what gits me
is how she gits 'em."