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Updated: June 17, 2025
Folks'll never persuade me that the old H.P.'s don't do best for Cornwall; but when you go in for exhibition there's the judges and their fads to be considered, and the rage nowadays is all for Teas and high centres. . . . When first I heard as that parcel of ground was likely to come in the market, I sat down and planned how I'd lay it out with three long beds for the very best Teas, and fence off the top with a rose hedge Wichurianas or Penzance sweet briars and call it my Jubilee Garden; next year bein' the Diamond Jubilee, you know.
Meanwhile Mrs. Dodd sat on the porch and meditated. "I'd never have thought," she said to herself, "that Ebeneezer would intend that Holmes woman to have any of it, but you never can tell what folks'll do when their minds gets to failin' at the end.
There was a long silence, and at length Rebecca looked up from the ground to ascertain its cause. She frowned and drew her aching back stiffly straight again. "Everlastin'ly lookin' at that pictur'!" she exclaimed. "I declare to goodness, Phoebe Wise, folks'll think you're vain as a pouter pigeon." Phoebe laughed merrily, tossed the letters into the box and leaped to her feet.
Samuel Budd, who, too, had a pistol in his hand. Young Buck looked long at him and then he laughed: "You, too, Sam Budd," he said. "We folks'll rickollect this on election day." The Hon. Sam deigned no answer. And up in the store Devil Judd lighted his pipe and sat down to think out the strange code of ethics that governed that police-guard.
Pennycook, leaned further in the window and improvising a megaphone with his hands, whispered hoarsely the damning words: "She talks!" Donna nodded. For a long time she had suspected Mrs. Pennycook of this very practice. "I've got to light out now" Mr. Hennage continued. "Folks'll wonder if they see me hangin' around here.
Nancy counted on comin', an' I'd just as soon she'd have a nice time. Her cousin's folks'll see her to the depot," he added as he drove away, and Tom nodded reassuringly from the bookstore door. Nancy looked up eagerly from beside a counter full of gayly bound books, and gave him a speechless and grateful good-morning. "I'm getting some presents for the little boys," she informed him.
"It don't seem to me Christmas is a thing for the churches to decide about," said Simeon, thoughtfully. "It seems to me the matter is up to the merchants and the grocers and the family providers. We're the ones most concerned. Us providers have got to scratch gravel to get together any Christmas at all, if any. And speaking for us merchants, I may say, we'll lay in the stock if folks'll buy it.
He rose to his feet, picked up the heavy ox-goad, struck the near ox sharply on the side, and walking on a little ahead of the team, said: "I'll just take ye down a piece, Mr. Ganew, till we're in sight of Jim Blair's, before I undo ye. I reckon the presence o' a few folks'll strengthen your good resolutions."
This here modern, down-to-the-minute, higher livin', loftier sphere, intellectual supremacy idea is all right if folks'll just keep their feet on the ground. "You take Stella an' me now. I know we're old fashioned an' slow an' all that, an' we've seen a lot of hardships since we was married over in Skull Valley where she was born an' raised.
If you've got the fur coat and the goggles on your cap, you can walk or ride on a transfer, and folks'll take it as a cinch that your bubble's back in the garage bein' fitted with a new set of hundred-dollar tires. Why, just the smell of benzine on a suit you've had out to the cleaners will give 'em the dream, if you throw your chest out right.
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