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Westerfelt by Will N. (William Nathaniel) Harben
page 39 of 258 (15%)

"Are you ready, young man?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, coming out.

"Gentlemen," she said, "quit thar a minute! This is John Westerfelt,
my old friend. Mind you look atter yore intrusts. The boys over in
Fannin know how to please the gals. Ef you don't watch sharp he'll cut
you every one out."

The two men holding the towel between them gave him their moist hands,
and those at the basins nodded. Mrs. Bradley drew him into the
sitting-room. The buzz of conversation ceased as she introduced him.
They all rose, bowed, and sat down again, but no one spoke. He tried
to detain his hostess, but she would not stay.

"I've got to look atter the rest," she said. "You must talk to some o'
these folks. They didn't come here jest to look at you. Here, Jennie
Wynn, turn yore face round, an' give Frank a chance to talk to Lou."
She whisked off into another room, and Westerfelt found himself facing
a blushing maiden with a round face, dark hair and eyes.

"Excuse my back," she said over her shoulder to Frank Hansard.

"It _hain't_ as purty as yore face, ef you _have_ got on a new dress,"
he replied, laughing.

"Hush, Frank; hain't you got no manners?" She meant that he was
showing discourtesy by continuing to talk to her when she had just been
introduced to a stranger.
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