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Updated: June 27, 2025
Then as an afterthought, "I'll go if you'll promise me to stay very quiet until I get back." "I promise," said Mrs. King, sobbing, "but go quickly! I simply can't be still when I'm uncertain." In another house of lesser proportions, a girl was huddled in a chair, gazing at Lafe Grandoken. "An' they told you over the telephone he was dyin'?" he demanded, looking at Jinnie.
"Lafe just doted on the flower, honey," acknowledged Peggy, bending over the bed, "and I cooked all the sausage, an' we two et 'em. They was finer'n silk.... Now go to sleep; will you?" "Sure," trembled Jinnie. "Put Happy Pete in my arms, dear." Mrs. Grandoken looked once more at the doctor. He nodded his head slightly. So with the dog clasped in her arms, Jinnie straightway fell asleep.
In the past few weeks Jinnie Grandoken had been driven blindly into unknown places, forced to face conditions which but a short time before would have seemed unbearable. However, there was much with which Jinnie could occupy her time. Blind Bobbie was not well. He was mourning for the cobbler with all his boyish young soul, and every day Peggy grew more taciturn and ill.
"He's beautiful, Peggy dear, ain't he?" he implored, drinking in with affectionate, fatherly eyes the rosy little face. "Wife darlin', make a long story short an' tell me he's beautiful." Mrs. Grandoken eyed her husband sternly. "Lafe," she admonished, "you're as full of brag as a egg is of meat, and salt won't save you.
As she hurried across the tracks, she saw Grandoken sitting in the window. He saluted her with one hand, but as she was using both of hers to hold the dog, she only smiled in return, with a bright nod of her head. Once in the shop, she looked about cautiously. "I've got something, Lafe," she whispered, "something you'll like." When she displayed the hurt dog, Lafe put out his hand.
Grandoken, she would have understood the peculiar tightening at the corners of the woman's thin lips when she delivered the precious pittance. Virginia searched the other's face for the least sign of approbation. She wished Peg would kiss her, but, of course, she dared not suggest it.
Grandoken shrugged her shoulders, growled deep in her throat, and opined they were all fools. "An' quit doin' yourself proud, Lafe!" she grumbled. "You're grinnin' like a Cheshire cat. 'Tain't nothin' to your credit she's goin' to have the time of her life." "No, 'tain't to my credit, Peggy," retorted the cobbler, "but 'tis to yours, wife." By the time Lafe finished this statement, Mr.
Grandoken, "that dog ain't goin' to stay around this house, an' you might as well understand it from the beginnin'. I've enough to do with you an' Lafe an' those cats, without fillin' my house with sick pups. So get that notion right out of your noddle!... See?" Jinnie bowed her head over the sick dog and made a respectful reply.
He was always thanking some one in some unknown place for the priceless gift of his woman. "I'll 'Peggy dear' you whenever I feel like it, wife," he said gravely, "for God knows you're awful dear to me, Peg." Mrs. Grandoken ignored his speech, but when she returned from the stove, her voice was a little more gentle. "You can both stuff your innards with hot mush.
Nearly every day the postman brought a letter from the girl to Peggy, and after reading it several times to herself, she gave it to Blind Bobbie. Mrs. Grandoken had discovered this was the way to keep him quiet. One afternoon the boy sat on the front steps of the cobbler's shop, sunning himself. "You can hear Jinnie better when she comes," said Peg, as an excuse to coax him out of doors.
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