Janice Meredith by Paul Leicester Ford
page 110 of 806 (13%)
page 110 of 806 (13%)
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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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