I said I'd do it,
an' I will; but I dunno how you'll take it."
"O mother!" cried Mary, "don't!"
"What is it?" asked Nicholas, folding the tablecloth in careful
creases. "Say your say and git it over."
Hattie rocked faster and faster. Even in the stress of the moment
Nicholas remembered that the old chair was well made, and true to its
equilibrium.
"Well," said she, "Luella an' Freeman Henry come over here this very
day, an' Freeman Henry's possessed you should sell him the Flat-Iron
Lot."
"Wants the Flat-Iron Lot, does he?" inquired Nicholas grimly. "What's
he made up his mind to do with it?"
"He wants to build," answered Hattie, momentarily encouraged. "He says
he'll be glad to ride over to work, every mornin' of his life, if he
can only feel 't he's settled in Tiverton for good. An' there's that
lot on high ground, right near the meetin'-house, as sightly a place as
ever was, an' no good to you,--there ain't half a load o' hay cut there
in a season,--an' he'd pay the full vally"--
"Stop!" called Nicholas; and though his tone was conversational, Hattie
paused, open-mouthed, in full swing. He turned and faced her. "Hattie,"
said he, "did you know that the fust settlers of this town had anything
to do with that lot o' land?"
"No, I didn't know it," answered Hattie blankly.
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