For five minutes the old man had occupied in frowning silence
the other of my veranda rocking-chairs. As I expected, however, I had
not long to wait.
"I met old Sam Hadley an' his wife in the cemetery just now," he
observed.
"Yes?" I was careful to express just enough, and not too much, interest:
one had to be circumspect with Uncle Zeke.
"Hm-m; I was thinkin'--" Uncle Zeke paused, shifted his position, and
began again. This time I had the whole story.
"I was thinkin'--I don't say that Jimmy did right, an' I don't say that
Jimmy did wrong. Maybe you can tell. 'Twas like this:
"In a way we all claimed Jimmy Hadley. As a little fellow, he was one of
them big-eyed, curly-haired chaps that gets inside your heart no matter
how tough't is. An' we was really fond of him, too,--so fond of him that
we didn't do nothin' but jine in when his pa an' ma talked as if he was
the only boy that ever was born, or ever would be--an' you know we must
have been purty daft ter stood that, us bein' fathers ourselves!
"Well, as was natural, perhaps, the Hadleys jest lived fer Jimmy. They'd
lost three, an' he was all there was left. They wasn't very well-to-do,
but nothin' was too grand fer Jimmy, and when the boy begun ter draw
them little pictures of his all over the shed an' the barn door, they
was plumb crazy.
Pages:
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148