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Meadow Grass - Tales of New England Life by Alice Brown
page 121 of 256 (47%)
man alighted from it, hitched his horse, and knocked at the front door.
Aunt Melissa saw him coming, and peered at him over her glasses with an
unrecognizing stare.

"'Mandy!" she called, "'Mandy, here's a pedler or suthin'! If he's got
any essences, you ask him for a little bottle o' pep'mint."

Amanda dropped the pile of coverlets on the sofa, and went to the front
door. Presently she reappeared, and with her, smoothly talking her
down, came the young man. His eyes lighted first on the coverlets, with
a look of cheerful satisfaction.

"Got all ready for me, didn't you?" he asked, briskly. "Heard I was
coming, I guess."

He was a man of an alert Yankee type, with waxed blond mustache and
eye-glasses; he was evidently to be classed among those who have
exchanged their country honesty for a veneer of city knowingness.

"For the land's sake!" ejaculated Aunt Melissa, as soon as she had him
at short range, "you're the one down to Blaisdell's that's buyin' up
all the old truck in the neighborhood. Well, you won't git my
andirons!"

He had begun to unfold the blue coverlets and examine them with a
practised eye, while Amanda stood by, painfully conscious that some
decisive action might be required of her; and her mother sat watching
the triumph of her quilts in pleased importance.

"They ain't worth much," he said, dropping them, with a conclusive air.
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