"And you shall----"
"Ma-ry?" It was Nathan at the foot of the back stairway.
"Yes, Nathan."
"Ain't it 'most supper-time?"
"Bless my soul!" cried Mrs. Kelsey, springing to her feet.
"An', Mary----"
"Yes."
"Hain't I got a collar--a b'iled one, on the bureau up there?"
"No," called Alma, snatching up the collar and throwing it on the bed.
"There isn't a sign of one there. Suppose you let it go to-night, dad?"
"Well, if you don't mind!" And a very audible sigh of relief floated up
the back stairway.
The Bridge Across the Years
John was expected on the five o'clock stage. Mrs. John had been there
three days now, and John's father and mother were almost packed up--so
Mrs. John said. The auction would be to-morrow at nine o'clock, and with
John there to see that things "hustled"--which last was really
unnecessary to mention, for John's very presence meant "hustle"--with
John there, then, the whole thing ought to be over by one o'clock, and
they off in season to 'catch the afternoon express.
And what a time it had been--those three days!
Mrs. John, resting in the big chair on the front porch, thought of those
days with complacency--that they were over. Grandpa and Grandma Burton,
hovering over old treasures in the attic, thought of them with terrified
dismay--that they had ever begun.
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