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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Thankful's Inheritance"

"It's so everlastin' dark a
feller can't see nothin'. Yes, there is crossroads, three of 'em. Now,
which one do we take? I ain't drove to Bayport direct for years. When we
went to the Cattle Show we went up through the Centre. Do you know which
is the right road, Hannah?"
Hannah peered forth from the blackness of the back seat. "Now, let me
think," she said. "Last time I went to Bayport by this road was four
year ago come next February. Sarah Snow's daughter Becky was married to
a feller named Higgins--Solon Higgins' son 'twas. No, 'twa'n't his son,
because--"
"Aw, crimus! Who cares if 'twas his aunt's gran'mother? What I want to
know is which road to take."
"Well, seems to me, nigh as I can recollect, that we took the left-hand
road. No, I ain't sure but 'twas the right-hand. There's a bare chance
that it might have been the middle one, 'cause there was trees along
both sides. I know we was goin' to Becky Snow's weddin'--"
"Trees 'long it! There ain't nothin' BUT trees for two square miles
around these diggin's. Git dap, you! I'll take the right-hand road. I
think that's the way."
"Well, so do I; but, as I say, I ain't sure. You needn't be so cross and
unlikely, whether 'tis or 'tain't."
If the main road had been dark, the branch road was darker, and the
branches of the trees slapped and scratched the sides of the carryall.
Caleb's whole attention was given to his driving, and he said nothing.
Miss Parker at length broke the dismal silence.


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