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Updated: May 8, 2025
Tip Pulsifer is always red about the eyes, and no way was left her to show her emotion but to toss her apron convulsively over her face and swing Cevery wildly to and fro, so that the infant's cries arose above the chorus of "good-bys" as we drove away. "Farewell, comrade." We heard Aaron Kallaberger's stentorian tones as we clattered around the bend. "Head up eyes front for'a'd!"
"He was tellin' me about Earl and Alice Eliza, and Pearl and Cevery and the rest of 'em. He says it's jest a pickter to see 'em all in bed together a perfect pickter." "A perfect picture," said I sleepily. "Tip must have a lovely home. Why, he tells me they have a sewin'-machine." "Lovely," said I. "And a spring-bed." "And a double-heater stove," said she. "And an accordion," said I.
"Serves you right," said I. Then, to myself, "Not unless the other man's an utter stranger." "She hasn't enough wood chopped to last a week," said Tip. "She chopped the last wood-pile herself," said I. "There's Cevery," pleaded Tip. "Cevery never done me no harm, and who'll dandle him?" "The same good soul that dandled him the day you rode over the mountain," I answered.
In an instant his shrill cry was drowned in a burst of applause full of spirit and heart, closing with a flourish of wails from Cevery Pulsifer and the latest of the Kallabergers. Perry's arms fell gracefully to his side and he inclined his head and half closed his eyes in acknowledgment.
Now the six little Pulsifers, all with the lower halves of their faces washed and their hair soaped down, were climbing around me, and the latest comer, that same Cevery who arrived with Piney Martin's spring-bed, was hoisted into kissing distance by his mother, who was thinner and more wan than ever, but still smiling. But this was home and these were home people.
He thumped the floor again, and when the tittering had subsided, and only the snuffling of Cevery Pulsifer broke the silence, he said: "In jestice to Mr. Thomas, I am requested to explain that the address was originally intended to be got off at the railroad.
"Now see what you've done with your argyin', Tip Pulsifer," cried the old woman, running to me. "Poor thing ain't the Miracle workin'?" "I guess it is, but that's an awful bad spot that's right, Widow, powwow it." For ten long days more Mrs. Tip Pulsifer chopped her own wood, Cevery went undandled, and Earl and Pearl and Alice Eliza carried the water that half mile from the spring.
Awakened from the gentle doze into which he had fallen the instant Cevery Pulsifer relieved him of the duty of leading the applause, he brought his chair down on all four legs, and slapped both knees violently. Satisfied that they were still there, he looked up at the orator. "You have give a limb," repeated Perry, emphasizing the announcement by shaking his finger at the old man.
You're thinkin' of Tip Pulsifer's last baby. He come July six, for don't you mind how they called him Cevery out of pity and generosity for the Spayniards? Piney's spring-bed arrived the same day and on the same stage as brung us the news of Mark here havin' his left leg shot off." "Mebbe mebbe mebbe," muttered Henry, shaking his head dubiously.
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