"P'raps they be," said old Mrs. Bascom sarcastically;
"p'raps they be goin' to church, takin' a three-quart
tin pail 'n' a brown paper bundle along with 'em.
. . . They 're comin' over the bridge, just as I s'posed.
. . . Now, if they come past this house, you head 'em off,
Almiry, 'n' see if you can git some satisfaction out of 'em.
. . . They ain't hardly old enough to hold their tongues."
An exciting interview soon took place in the middle of the road,
and Almira reentered the room with the expression of one who had
penetrated the inscrutable and solved the riddle of the Sphinx.
She had been vouch-safed one of those gleams of light in darkness
which almost dazzle the beholder.
"That's about the confirmingest thing I've heern yet!"
she ejaculated, as she took off her shaker bonnet.
"They say they're goin' up to their aunt Hitty's to stay two days.
They're dressed in their best, clean to the skin, for I looked;
'n' it's their night gownds they've got in the bundle.
They say little Mote has gone to Union to stop all night
with his uncle Abijah, 'n' that leaves Rube all alone,
for the smith girl that does his chores is home sick
with the hives.
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