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"He can keep on a-hoping," said Bob Flippin. "I know the Judge." Mary flared. "We can find a little house of our own " Her father laid his hand on her shoulder. "Look at me, daughter," he said, and turned her face up to aim. "Our house is yours, Mary," he said. "I don't like the way you did it, and I hate to think what will happen when the Judge finds out.
There was in their relations, however, a complete adjustment to the class distinctions which separated them. The Judge accepted as his right the personal service with which Bob Flippin delighted to honor him. It was always Bob who pulled the boat and carried the basket. It was Bob who caught the grasshoppers and cooked the lunch. There was one dish dedicated to a day's fishing fried ham and eggs.
On sunshiny days there would be no one to cut bait for him, no one to laugh with him at the dogs as they sat waiting for their corn-cakes, no one to listen with flattering attention to his old, old tales. It had not occurred to him that Bob Flippin, too, might have his pride. He sat down heavily in a porch chair. "Go and get Mary," he exploded; "bring her here. The thing is done.
Just beginning to walk and talk." "Stop a minute, Jefferson, while I speak to them." Mr. Flippin pulled up his fat horse. He was black-haired, ruddy, and wide of girth. "Well, well," he said, with a big laugh, "it is cert'n'y good to see you." Mary Flippin was slender and delicate and her eyes were blue. Her hair was thick and dark.
"I told Truxton," Mary said suddenly, "that he might not want to call her 'Fiddle. The whole neighborhood says 'Fiddle Flippin." "It is a dear little name," Aunt Claudia was bending adoringly over the baby, "but Fidelity is better Fidelity Branch Beaufort " "I want her to be as proud of her name as I am," Mary's voice had a thrilling note.
"And I am a grandmother, Becky. Mrs. Flippin and I are grandmothers " She said it with a sort of bitter mirth. "What did Grandfather say?" "I left him raging. It was very hard on me. I had hoped he would make it easy. He declares that Mary Flippin shan't step inside of his front door. That he is going to recall all the invitations that he had sent out for to-night.
One of them I had out was called Doctor Chance; guess he got his name cause other folks took chances havin' him round. Well, Chance was the first flipper. I'd showed him the trick of rotatin' the frypan to loosen the jacks so't they wouldn't stick an' cause trouble. The doctor got the hang of flippin' 'em 'an did a good job 'til he wanted to do it fancy.
More than one of those younger folk had had it in mind that at last year's ball Mary Flippin had sat in the gallery. But not even the most snobbish of them would have dared to brave Becky Bannister's displeasure. Back of her clear-eyed serenity was a spirit which flamed and a strength which accomplished.
On sunshiny days there would be no one to cut bait for him, no one to laugh with him at the dogs as they sat waiting for their corn-cakes, no one to listen with flattering attention to his old, old tales. It had not occurred to him that Bob Flippin, too, might have his pride. He sat down heavily in a porch chair. "Go and get Mary," he exploded; "bring her here. The thing is done.
And she says that she has never seen anything so sociable as the teakettle, the way it rocks and sings." So now when Madge asked Mrs. Flippin if she said her prayers, Mrs. Flippin said, "Do you mean at night?" "Yes." "Bob and I say them together," said Mrs. Flippin. "We started on our wedding night, and we ain't ever stopped." It was a simple statement of a sublime fact.
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