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I have it in my blouse-pocket yet, but " "You have not opened it, nor looked at it yet?" "No. I thought that if anybody wrote to me now, he either wanted to insult me or call me to some kind of a reckoning. I thought there was time for both." "Oh, you stupid fellow! Where is that letter? I want you to read it at once!" I took out the letter, opened it, and read:
Nothing in reason could then be refused Si, and the Orderly tore a couple of leaves out of the back of his treasured diary, which had escaped the rain, and handed them to him. Si fished his stub of a pencil out of his blouse-pocket, laid the paper on the back of a tin plate, and began: "Somewhere in Tennessee, December the 27th, 1862.
"I hate him for being what he is and treating me this way, but I love him still more," I confided to Mrs. Ewe as I gave her an extra handful of wheat out of the blouse-pocket which I kept filled for Mr. G. Bird from pure partiality. Uncle Cradd did not bring a letter from the post-office for me.
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