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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Thankful's Inheritance"


"Healthy note, this is!" he muttered. "Got to set around and freeze to
death just 'cause that lazy critter ain't finished her job. I pay her
for it, don't I?"
Thankful sniffed. "I suppose you do," she said, adding under her breath,
"though how much you pay is another thing."
"Is this all the breakfast you've got?" queried Caleb.
"Why, yes; it's what we always have Sunday mornin's. Isn't it what you
expected?"
"Oh, I expected it, all right. Take it away; I don't want no more.
Consarn it! I wish sometimes I had a home of my own."
"Well, why don't you have one? I should think you would. You can afford
it."
Mr. Hammond did not reply. He folded his napkin, seized his hat and coat
and went out. When he crossed the threshold he shivered, as a matter of
principle.
He stalked gloomily along the path by the edge of the bluff. Captain
Obed Bangs came up the path and they met.
"Hello, Caleb!" hailed the captain. "Fine weather at last, eh? Almost
like August. Injun summer at last, I cal'late. What you got your coat
collar turned up for? Afraid of getting your neck sunburned?"
Mr. Hammond grunted and hurried on. Captain Obed had chosen a poor topic
if he desired a lengthy conversation.
Mrs. Pease lived at the farther end of the village and when Caleb
reached there he was met by the lady's niece, Emma Snow.
"Aunt Melindy's real poorly," said Emma. "She's been so for 'most three
days. I'm stayin' here with her till she gets better. No, she ain't had
time to do your mendin' yet.


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