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Updated: June 26, 2025
"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.
It was mild sport compared to the fishing of other days when the Judge had waded into mountain streams with the water coming up close to the pocket of his flannel shirt where he kept his cigars, or had been poled by Bob Flippin from "riffle" to pool. Those had been the days of speckled trout and small-mouthed bass, and Bob had been a boy and the Judge at middle age.
I want you to see Fiddle Flippin, Randy." "Who is Fiddle Flippin?" "Mary's little girl. Mary is a war bride. She was in Petersburg teaching school when the war broke out, and she married a man named Branch. Then she came home and she called the baby Fidelity." "I hope he was a good husband." "Nobody has seen him, he was ordered away at once. But she is very proud of him. And the baby is a darling.
The day's sport resulted in three small "shiners." But he had enjoyed the day there had been the stillness and the sunlight, and the good company of Bob Flippin and his daughter Mary.
"I'm upset by what you've said, Flippin. Dalton's all right as far as I can see as a friend of mine. But when anybody comes courting at Huntersfield he's got to show credentials." He ate his lunch without much appetite. He was guiltily aware of what Claudia would say if she knew what had happened. But perhaps nothing had happened and perhaps she need not know.
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.
And then he said "Get my pa he must forgive me before I die." By this time I knew how Mitch was hurt. He'd been with Charley King and George Heigold, and they had been flippin' on the train.
She treated them as a missionary might treat the questions of a beautiful and appealing savage, who having gone with him to some strange country was constantly interrogatory. "She don't seem to know anything about the things we do," Mrs. Flippin told her husband. "She got the nurse to wheel her out into the kitchen this afternoon, and watched me frost a cake and cut out biscuits.
Flippin," said Madge, "I wish you'd call up Hamilton Hill and ask for Mr. Dalton, and tell him that Miss MacVeigh would like to have him come and see her if he has nothing else on hand." Mrs. Flippin looked her astonishment. "To-night?" "Oh, I am not going to receive him this way," Madge reassured her. "If he can come, I'll get nurse to dress me and make me comfy in the sitting-room."
I am bored to death with near-bad people, Mrs. Flippin, and near-good ones. I'd much rather have them real saints and real sinners." The nurse came in just then, and Mrs. Flippin went away. And after a time the house was very still. Madge's bed was close to the window. Outside innumerable fireflies studded the night with gold. Now and then a screech-owl sounded his mournful note.
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