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Updated: June 7, 2025
Hodgkins had asked in the group next to her. Mrs. Hodgkins had been away on the mainland for years, and was evidently inquiring after old island friends of her maiden days. "What has become of Susie Maydwell?" was the question she had asked. "Oh, we never see her any more; she married Willie Kupele," another island woman answered.
"I've had no dealings with Grimshaw and Hodgkins. I don't owe them anything. Besides, I'm going to smash myself. Look here, Larry, you know me. You know when I make up my mind I mean it. Well, I've sure made up my mind. I'm tired of the whole game. I'm letting go of it as fast as I can, and a smash is the quickest way to let go."
Simpkins replied, as he made his way cautiously down the rickety steps. "Fer goodness sakes, what's Timotheus been a doin' naow, I wonder," muttered Mrs. Hodgkins. "I shan't ask, an' be told ter wait, as Silas Barnes was.
Weston, "but you've a kind heart, an' while you'd feel like tellin' her ter go, you wouldn't do it." "Mis' Brimblecom's one er the best women that ever lived, an' it's provokin' fer her ter be pestered with Sabriny," declared Mrs. Hodgkins. "Wal, I must be goin'," and away she went, stopping on the way to greet Randy who stood by the wall upon which sat Prue and Tabby. Long after Mrs.
Hodgkins would on such occasions, lean against the rail fence and bombard the busy woman alternately with bits of news, and pointed questions until, the last piece of linen in place upon the line, the empty basket would be a signal for adieus.
"I'm glad ye reelize the time's come ter 'dress me as 'Mr.," remarked Timotheus, and Mrs. Hodgkins vouchsafed no answer, but hurried along the road, "afeared ter speak," as she afterward said, "lest I'd say a deal more'n I orter."
Indeed it seemed as if the place had taken on new life and ambition, and if at any corner or turn of the road one chose to listen, he could often hear a few stray bits of conversation in regard to the interests which lay nearest to the hearts of the various newsmongers. Of all the tale-bearers, and there were many, none were as harmless, and at the same time as busy as Mrs. Hodgkins.
Brimblecom was studying the letter, Mrs. Hodgkins had sallied forth to tell the great news, that the visitor was expected, and as she passed the village store, old Mr. Simpkins, in the doorway, was taking leave of Silas Barnes. "Yes, sir, he's a great feller, he is. There ain't another as 'riginal as he is on the globe, I bet ye.
Walking down a shady lane one might espy her endeavoring to hold a friendly confab with some busy farmer's wife who, while hanging out her washing, endeavored to hold a clothespin in her mouth, and at the same time answer Mrs. Hodgkins' frequent questions, such as, "Naow did ye ever hear anything ter beat that? "Ain't ye amazed at the idee?" Mrs.
A slouching figure leaned upon the top rail of the fence at the side of the road and its attitude, together with the singular expression of the face beneath the hat brim, piqued Mrs. Hodgkins' curiosity. "What on airth!" she began, but the figure did not move. "Going ter be deef like his father, I wonder?" she murmured, then raising her voice she exclaimed,
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