Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
Gid's rent was a standing joke; and nothing is more sacredly entitled to instant recognition than a joke that for years has been established in a Southern household. "I notice that he never goes into the Major's office," Mrs. Cranceford remarked; and Tom quickly replied: "And I don't blame him for that. I went in there about a month ago and haven't had a dollar since."
To what was passing the Major was humorously alive, and, too keenly tickled to sit still, he walked up and down the room, slyly shaking himself. Mrs. Cranceford asked Gid if he had read the book which she had loaned him, the "Prince of the House of David," and he answered that when at last he had fallen asleep the night before, the precious volume had dropped beside his pillow.
From the woods the men were coming, and as Gid drew near to the Cranceford house he saw Jim Taylor passing through the gate; and a few moments later, turning a corner of the porch, he found the giant standing there with his arm about Louise. "Ho, the young rabbit!" the old man cried. "Frog," she laughed, running forward and giving him both her hands. "Why, how did you get here?" he asked.
Old Parker found his neighbor and nudged him. "I says to my wife, 'Nancy, says I, 'whenever you want the right idee, go to John Cranceford and you'll get it." "That's all right, Uncle Parker," the irritated man replied. "I don't give a continental and you needn't keep on coming to me with it." "You don't? Then what sort of a man are you?"
In the light of the window he stood to read it, but it fluttered away from him the moment he saw that there was a greeting in it for himself. He grabbed at it as if, possessing life, it were trying to escape, and with a tight grip upon it he said: "I knew she would write and I am sure she would have written sooner if if it had been necessary." Mrs. Cranceford was laughing tearfully.
But together they would ride abroad, laughing along the road. To Mrs. Cranceford old Gid was a pest. Like a skittish horse old Gid shied at the office door. Once he had crossed that threshold and it had cost him a crop of cotton. "How are you, John?" was Gid's salutation as he edged off, still fanning himself.
"Here, my boy. Why, what's the trouble?" "Let me see you a moment," he said, halting. The Major arose, and the giant, with one stride forward, caught him by the arm and led him away amid the black shadows under the trees. Mrs. Cranceford came out upon the porch and stood looking with cool disapproval upon the priest. At a window she had sat and heard him enunciate his views.
And I can understand why he is necessary to father. I am fond of him, and I am almost ready to declare that at times he is almost necessary to me. No, I won't make it as strong as that, but I must say that at times it is a keen pleasure to jower with him." "To do what?" Mrs. Cranceford asked. "Jower with him? Where did you get that word?"
It is now time for me to go," he added, after a short pause. "Please tell your man that I want my horse." At the close of a misty day Jim Taylor stood at the parlor door to take his leave of Mrs. Cranceford.
He had left uncut the leaves of a sporting review, had taken to romances, and in his room had been found, sprawled on foolscap, an ill-rhymed screed in rapturous praise of soulful eyes and flaxen hair. Mrs. Cranceford knew that he must be in love; so did the Major, but he could not conjecture the object of so fervid a passion.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking