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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Thankful's Inheritance"

I'm goin there and I'm goin' pretty soon.
I've had my notice."
Thankful stood up. She was convinced that her visitor had been driven
crazy by his experience in the back bedroom.
"Now, now, now," she faltered. "Don't talk so wicked, Solomon Cobb.
You've been a church man for years, and a professor of religion. You
told me so, yourself. How can you set there and say--"
Mr. Cobb waved his hand.
"Don't make no difference," he moaned. "Or, if it does, it only makes it
worse. I know where I'm goin', but--but I'll go with a clean manifest,
anyhow. I'll tell you the whole thing. I promised the dead I would and
I will. Thankful Cahoon, I've been a bad man to you. I swore my solemn
oath as a Christian to one that was my best friend, and I broke it.
"Years ago I swore by all that was good and great I'd look out for you
and see that you was comf'table and happy long's you lived. And instead
of that, when I come here last night--LED here, I know now that I
was--my mind was about made up to take your home away from you, if I
could. Yes, sir, I was cal'latin' to foreclose on you and sell this
place to Kendrick. I thought I was mighty smart and was doin' a good
stroke of business. No mortal man could have made me think diff'rent;
BUT AN IMMORTAL ONE DID!"
He groaned and wiped his forehead. Thankful did not speak; her surprise
and curiosity were too great for speech.
"'Twas your Uncle Abner Barnes," went on Solomon, "that was the makin'
of me. I sailed fust mate for him fourteen year.


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