That would be in the afternoon; and there would be such a dazzlin'
brightness in her eyes, that I used to wonder if it was the fire of
immortality a bein' kindled there, in them big, sad eyes.

And right about this time the executor (and I wish he could have been
executed with a horse-whip: he knew how she felt about it)--he wuz sot, a
good man, but sot. Why, his own sir name wuz never more sot in the ground
than he wuz sot on top of it. And he didn't like a woman's interference.
He wrote to her that one of her stores, that he had always rented for the
sale of factory-cloth and sheep's clothin', lamb's-wool blankets, and
etcetery, he had had such a good offer for it, to open a new saloon and
billiard-room, that he had rented it for that purpose; and he told how
much more he got for it. That made 4 drinkin' saloons, that wuz in the
boy's property. Every one of 'em, so Cicely felt, a drawin' some other
mother's boys down to ruin.

Cicely thought of it nights a sight, so she said,--said she was afraid the
curses of these mothers would fall on the boy.

And her eyes kep' a growin' bigger and solemner like, and her face grew
thinner and thinner, and that red flush would burn onto her cheeks regular
every afternoon, and she begun to cough bad.

But one day she felt better, and was anxious to go. So she and I went to
see the executor, Condelick Post.

We left the boy with Philury. Josiah took us to the cars, and we arrove
there at 1 P.M. We went to the tarven, and got dinner, and then sot out
for Mr. Post'ses office.