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I can't remember her at all," the girl said wistfully. "I wish you could, too. You look just like her. I'm glad you do. We Metz people all have the black hair and dark eyes but you have your mom's light hair and blue eyes. I see her every time I look at you." She seated herself near him.
Reist, so said the inscription in the big family Bible. But it was difficult to understand how the two women could have been mothered by one person. Millie, the hired girl, expressed her opinion freely to Amanda one day after a particularly trying time with the old woman. "How that Rebecca Miller can be your mom's sister now beats me. She's more like a wasp than anything I ever seen without wings.
"Huh," she retorted ungraciously, "Lyman Mertzheimer, you ain't the only M in Lancaster County!" "No," he replied arrogantly, "but I guess that poor Mart Landis don't count. He's always tending one of his mom's babies some nice beau he'd make! If he ever goes courting he'll have to take along one of the little Landis kids, I bet." Phil laughed, but Amanda flushed in anger.
"He's got an IQ close to genius level. Look at this; he never saw a wheel before yesterday; now he's designing one." Lillian's eyes widened. "So that's why Mom's so sharp about sign-talk. She's been doing it all his life." Then she remembered what she had come out to show him, and held out the clipboard. "You know how that analyzer of mine works? Well, here's what Ayesha's going to do.
If I didn't think so much of them dishes I'd sold them a'ready. That little glass with the rim round the bottom of it I used to drink out of it at my granny's house when I was little. Them dark shiny dishes like copper were Jonas's mom's. And I like to keep the pewter, too, for abody can't buy it these days." Amanda looked up.
"They think you are a pathological degenerate who should be lynched. But I don't believe that." "Thanks. That's a big comfort." "I know what you were after when you tore Mom's dress." In spite of himself, Collins felt his face warming in a blush. "You were only seeking the mother love you missed as a boy," the girl said. Collins chewed on his lip a moment, and considered the idea.
Johnny had asked himself the same question; indeed, it had drummed insistently in his brain since he had inspected the fence that afternoon and had known just what had befallen him. The bell rang Sudden was calling again. He got up stolidly to answer more questions. "Oh Skyrider! I can only talk a minute. Mom's in the kitchen, and dad's gone to hunt up Bill Hayden.
"Playin' primer donner. I just look something grand. Wait, I'll come down." "Sure, come on down and let me see you. I'm going to hang around a while. Mom's here quilting, ain't she?" "Sh!" Phœbe raised a warning finger, then placed her hands to her mouth to shut the sound of her voice from the people in the gray house.
"Now, Phœbe," she said, "since we understand each other and have become friends, gather your books and hurry home. Your mother may be anxious about you." "Not my mother," Phœbe replied soberly. "I ain't got no mom. It's my Aunt Maria and my pop takes care of me. My mom's dead long a'ready. But I'm goin' now," she ended brightly before Miss Lee could answer.
Me and your mom's conceited we'd drive up to Puntz's Sunday afternoon after the dinner work's through a'ready. And if Aunty Em don't want you partic'lar, you're to come home and mind the childern, do you hear?" "Yes, sir." "Now, don't forget. Well, good-by, then." Again he bent to kiss her, and Tillie felt Fairchilds's eyes upon her, as unresponsively she submitted to the caress.
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