Thankful's Inheritance by Joseph Crosby Lincoln
page 20 of 440 (04%)
page 20 of 440 (04%)
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The idea evidently involved an examination of the stove, for she opened its rusty door and peered inside. Then, without waiting to answer her companion's questions, she hurried out into the kitchen, returning with an armful of shavings and a few sticks of split pine. "I noticed that woodbox in the kitchen when I fust come in," she said. "And 'twa'n't quite empty neither, though that's more or less of a miracle. Matches? Oh, yes, indeed! I never travel without 'em. I've been so used to lookin' out for myself and other folks that I'm a reg'lar man in some ways. There! now let's see if the draft is rusted up as much as the stove." It was not, apparently, for, with the dampers wide open, the fire crackled and snapped. Also it smoked a little. "'Twill get over that pretty soon," prophesied Mrs. Barnes. "I can stand 'most any amount of smoke so long's there's heat with it. Now, Emily, we'll haul that sofa up alongside and you lay down on it and get rested and warm. I'd say get dry, too, but 'twould take a reg'lar blast furnace to dry a couple of water rats like you and me this night. Perhaps we can dry the upper layer, though; that'll be some help. Now, mind me! Lay right down on that sofa." Emily protested. She was no wetter and no more tired than her cousin, she said. Why should she lie down while Aunt Thankful sat up? "'Cause I tell you to, for one thing," said the widow, with decision. "And because I'm well and strong and you ain't. When I think of how I got you, a half invalid, as you might say, to come on this crazy trip |
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