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Daviess, Maria Thompson, 1872-1924

"Rose of Old Harpeth"

But talking about marrying, I'm kinder
troubled in my mind about something, and I know I can depend on you
not to say nothing to nobody. Mr. Gid Newsome stopped at my gate last
week and got me into a kinder hinting chavering that have been
a-troubling me ever since. Now that's where Mr. Rucker is such a
comfort to me, he'll stay awake and worry as long as I have need of,
while I wouldn't a-dared to speak to Mr. Satterwhite after he put out
the light. But this is about what I've pieced outen that talk with the
Senator, with Cal's help. That mortgage he has got on the Briars about
covers it, like a double blanket on a single bed, and with the
interest beginning to pile up it's hard to keep the ends tucked in.
The time have come when Mr. Tucker can't make it no more and something
has got to be done. But they ain't no use to talk about moving them
old folks. I gather from a combination of what Mr. Gid looked and
_didn't_ say that he were entirely willing to take over the place and
make some sorter arrangement about them all a-staying on just the
same. That'd be mighty kind of him."
"You don't reckon he'd do no such take-me-or-get-out co'ting to Rose
Mary, do you?" asked the soft-natured little Mrs. Poteet with alarmed
sympathy in her blue eyes.
"Oh, no, he ain't that big a fool. Every man knows in marrying an
unwilling woman he's putting himself down to eat nothing but scraps
around the kitchen door. But I wisht Rose Mary could make up her mind
to marry Mr.


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