Then there's the wax flowers on the
mantelpiece. I always trembled for fear one of the youngsters would knock
'em off an' break the glass shade to smithereens, but they never did. An'
there's your Grandfather Gray's clock. I was a little disappointed at
first because it had a brass face, 'stead o' bein' white with scenes on
it, like they usually was--an' then it was such a chore, with everything
else there was to do, to keep it shinin' like it ought to. But now I
think I like it better than the other kind, an' it's tickin' away, same
as it has this last hundred years an' more. Do you remember when we began
to wind it up, Saturday nights, 'together?--All this is the same, praise
be, but--"
"Yes?" asked Howard Gray again.
"For years, evenin's," went on Mrs. Gray, "this room was full of kids.
There was generally a baby sleepin'--or refusin', rather loud, to
sleep!--in the cradle over in the corner. The older ones was settin'
around doin' sums on their slates, or playin' checkers an' cat's-cradle.
Pages:
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326