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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Thankful's Inheritance"

He's a misunderstood man, he tells me. Maybe
he is; there are such, you know. I've read about 'em in stories."
Emily smiled. "Well," she said, "I wouldn't drive him too hard, if I
were you, Imogene. He isn't the hardest worker in the world, but he does
do some work, and men who can be hired to work about a place in summer
are scarce here in East Wellmouth. You must be patient with him."
"Lor--land sakes! I am. But he does make me cross. He'd be settin' in my
kitchen every evenin' if I'd let him. Don't seem to want to go home. I
don't know's I blame him for that. You think I ought to let him set, I
suppose, Miss Howes?"
"Why, yes, if he doesn't annoy you too much. We must keep him contented.
You must sacrifice your own feelings to help Aunt Thankful. You would be
willing to make some sacrifice for her, wouldn't you?"
"You bet your life I would! She's the best woman on earth, Mrs. Barnes
is. I'd do anything for her, sacrifice my head, if that was worth five
cents to anybody. All right, he can set if he wants to. I--I suppose
I might improve his mind, hey, ma'am? By readin' to him, I mean. Mrs.
Thankful, she's been givin' me books to improve my mind; perhaps they'd
improve his if I read 'em out loud to him. His sister prob'ly won't like
it, but I don't care. You couldn't improve HER mind; she ain't got any.
It all run off the end of her tongue long ago."
By the Fourth of July the High Cliff House was filled with boarders.
Every room was taken, even the little back bedroom and the big room
adjoining it.


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