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Janice Meredith by Paul Leicester Ford
page 110 of 806 (13%)
embers. "My boy 's in a mighty stew about yer gal, but he
can't git the pluck ter tell her; so seem' he needed some help
an since I'd come ez far ez Brunswick, says I we'll make one
ride of it, an' over we comes ter tell yer fair an' open what
he's hangin' araound fer."

Another red face was hurriedly concealed by its owner
stooping over her tambour-frame, and Janice stitched away as
if nothing else were worth a second thought. It may be
noted, however, that, as a preliminary to further work the next
morning, a number of stitches had to be removed.

"Ho, ho!" laughed the squire, heartily, and slapping Phil
on the shoulder. "A shy bird, but a sly bird, eh? Oh, no!
Mr. Fox thought the old dogs did n 't know that he wanted
little Miss Duck."

Already in an agony of embarrassment, this speech reduced
Phil to still more desperate straits. He could look at his
father only in a kind of dumb appeal, and that individual,
seeing his son 's helplessness, spoke again.

"I'd hev left the youngsters ter snook araound till they wuz
able ter fix things by themselves," Mr. Hennion explained.
"But the times is gittin' so troublous thet I want ter see Phil
sottled, an' not rampin' araound as young fellers will when
they hain't got nuthin' ter keep them hum nights. An' so I
reckon thet if it ever is ter be, the sooner the better. Yer
gal won't be the wus off, hevin' three men ter look aout fer
her, if it duz come on ter blow."
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