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Burch about business, and I shouldn't wonder if Brother and Sister Cobb happened in. Don't go down cellar, I'll be there in a minute to do the running." Miranda and Jane exchanged glances. "Ain't she the beatin'est creetur that ever was born int' the world!" exclaimed Miranda; "but she can turn off work when she's got a mind to!" Shades up in both parlors! Shades up in the two south bedrooms!
The spring had always been in his judgment, sympathetically received, "too terrible warm," or "pointin' right to a late frost that'll kill everything," or, were it not palpably a failure, "so durned nice now that the summer'll be mean." But with the good news coming from the hospital he was ready to declare in response to friendly greetings: "It's the beatin'est time I ever come 'cross.
"I wish sometimes that I could bridle Minnie's," murmured Rebecca, as she went to set the table for supper. "I declare she IS the beatin'est child!" said Miranda, taking off her spectacles and laying down her mending. "You don't think she's a leetle mite crazy, do you, Jane?"
Then they had to be still again, for the voices of the returning hunters were very plain. They could hear Farmer Weeks, loud and angry, in the lead. "Ain't it the beatin'est thing you ever heard of?" he was asking one of his companions. "How do you guess that little varmint ever got away?" "Better give it up as a bad job, old hayseed," said another voice.
Smiles and tears both came as she caught Meg's wet hand and kissed it ecstatically, which action brought a suspicious moisture to Meg's own eyes and caused her to exclaim, with playful reproof: "If you ain't the beatin'est one fer huggin' an' kissin'! Well, then, set to; an' hear me tell: this is what me an' Jane has settled, how the very minute the cap'n heaves in sight down the Lane, on I claps the very pattron o' that same stuff ye're eatin' for him, an' calls it breakfast, dinner, er supper, as the case is.
"No, Jane, an' it's such a splendid one. That lovely grocer man " "Ugh!" interrupted the woman, with a derisive shrug of her shoulders. "You're the beatin'est child for seein' handsomeness where 'tain't." "Oh, I 'member you don't like him much, 'cause onct he give short measure o' flour, or somethin', but he is good an' I didn't mean purty, an' just listen!"
To which 'Stashie exclaimed, in awestruck wonder before the mysteries of creation, "Folks do be the beatin'est, don't they now, Mis' Hollister!" "And you must not speak of Mr. Hollister's aunt as a 'poor old soul," explained Lydia, apprehensive of Paul's wrath if he ever chanced to hear such a characterization. "But she is that," protested 'Stashie.
"Well, now; I'll be daddled if this here ain't about the beatin'est thing I ever chugged up ag'inst," was the old borderer's comment, when we had flogged our wits to small purpose in the search for some clue to the mystery. "What's your mind about it, hey, Chief?" Uncanoola shook his head. "Heap plenty slick. No go up-stream, no go down, no cross over, no go back. Mebbe go up like smoke w'at?"
The brown loaf was out, the white loaf was out, the toast rack was out, the doughnuts were out, the milk was skimmed, the butter had been brought from the dairy. Miranda removed the shawl from her head and sank into the kitchen rocker, ejaculating under her breath, "She is the beatin'est child! I declare she's all Sawyer!"
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