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Daviess, Maria Thompson, 1872-1924

"Rose of Old Harpeth"

"I haven't written him about our
troubles, because--because he hasn't got a position yet and I don't
want to trouble him while he is lonely and discouraged."
"Well, I reckon that's right," answered Uncle Tucker still in a
bantering frame of mind that it delighted Rose Mary to see him
maintain under the situation. "Come trouble, some women like to blind
a man with cotton wool while they wade through the high water and
only holler for help when their petticoats are down around their
ankles on the far bank. We'll wait and send Everett a photagraf of me
and you dishing out molasses and lard as grocer clerks. And glad to do
it, too!" he added with a sudden fervor of thankfulness rising in his
voice and great gray eyes.
"Yes, Uncle Tucker, glad and proud to do it," answered Rose Mary
quickly. "Oh, don't you know that if you hadn't seen and understood
because you loved me so, I would have felt it was right to do--to do
what was so horrible to me? I will--I will make up to you and them for
keeping me from--it. What do you suppose Mr. Newsome will do when he
finds out that you have moved and are ready to turn the place over to
him, even without any foreclosure?"
"Well, speculating on what men are a-going to do in this life is about
like trying to read turkey tracks in the mud by the spring-house, and
I'm not wasting any time on Gid Newsome's splay-footed impressions.
Come to-morrow night I'm a-going to pull the front door to for the
last time on all of us and early next morning Tom Crabtree's a-going
to take the letter and deed down to Gid in his office in the city for
me.


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