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Brown, Alice, 1857-1948

"Tiverton Tales"


"There!" she said, working with haste. "There's the solder, all of it.
And here's some of our sweet corn. We planted late."
Debby took an ear from the pan, and, tearing open the husk, tried a
kernel with a critical thumb.
"Tough, ain't it?" she remarked, disparagingly. "Likely to be, this
time o' year. Is that the pork?"
It was a generous cube, swathed in a fresh white cloth.
"Yes, it is," said Letty breathlessly, thrusting it in and shutting the
bag. "There!"
"Streak o' fat an' streak o' lean?" inquired Debby remorselessly.
"It's the best we've got; that's all I can say. Now I've got to speak
to David before he harnesses. Good-by!"
In a fever of impatience, she fled away to the barn.
"Well, if ever!" ejaculated Debby, lifting the bag and turning slowly
about, to take her homeward path. "Great doin's _I_ say!" And she made
no reply when Letty, prompted by a tardy conscience, stopped in the
barn doorway and called to her, "Tell Sammy I'm much obliged. Tell him
I shall make turnovers to-morrow." Debby was thinking of the pork, and
the likelihood of its being properly diversified.
Letty swept into the barn like a hurrying wind. The horses backed, and
laid their ears flat, and David, grooming one of them, gentled him and
inquired of him confidentially what was the matter.


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