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Updated: June 10, 2025
Then they introduced a lot of stalwart young farmers to him, each of whom gave father hearty greetings, but refrained from even a glance in my direction as I sat enthroned on high on the faded old cushions and waited for an introduction, which at last Uncle Cradd remembered to give me.
When men invent something with a mother's heart, they had better name it angel and admit that the kingdom has come. Bless my soul; these biscuits I brought over for you-all's breakfast are stone-cold!" "I've had my breakfast a half a day ago," I answered. "You go in and start father and Uncle Cradd off with the biscuits while I finish the nest and and do some more things for my family fortune."
William Craddock, who's come home to me to live and die where he belongs, and that young lady is Nancy. Those chickens are just a whim of hers, and we have to humor her. Can we lift you as far as Riverfield?" Uncle Cradd made his introduction and delivered his invitation all in one breath.
He answered me by preening a breast feather and winking one of his bright eyes as Uncle Cradd stopped the ancient steeds in the center of the square, before a little old brick building that bore three signs over its tumble-down porch. They were: "Silas Beesley, Grocer," "U.S. Post-Office," and "Riverfield Bank and Trust Co."
Rufus, I felt sure, would compromise by feeding every ration to the hogs, and I knew that he could persuade father to do likewise, but Uncle Cradd, I felt, would bring moral force to bear upon the situation. "Now, Uncle Cradd, here are all the different feeds in different buckets, each plainly marked with the time to give it.
"Time you has worship, Mas' Cradd, my muffins and spare ribs will be done," he said after he had bestowed a grand bow first upon father and then upon me, with a soft-voiced greeting of "sarvant, little Mis', and sarvant, Mas' William." "It is fitting that we render unto the Lord thankfulness for your return home with Nancy, your child, William, in the first moments of your arrival.
To tetch one makes my flesh crawl like they was walking on my grave, and if little Mis' will permit of me, I wanter git back to see to the browning of my muffins ginst the time Mas' Cradd rars at me fer his supper," and without waiting for the consent he had asked, old Rufus shuffled hurriedly back into the house. "I'll bring Mr. Golden Bird.
As Uncle Cradd spoke, his back straightened, and I saw that he must have been every inch of six feet three in his youth. "William?" "With you, Cradd," answered father quietly, and I felt that that formula was the one by which they had lived their joint youth. "Well, that is about what they are asking of you, Mr.
Call me in time to have dinner with father and Uncle Cradd," I answered as I again burrowed into the pillows. "I give that there rooster and family a bucket of feed," said Rufus begrudgingly, and he stood as if waiting to be praised for thus burying the hatchet that he had been mentally brandishing over the neck of the enemy.
It's near on to a mile over a mighty rough road to the house from the gate here. Everybody come and see us." As he spoke Uncle Cradd assisted me with ceremony into the chariot beside the Golden hero of the hour, and started the ancient steeds into a tall old gate right opposite the bank-store-post-office.
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