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Updated: June 1, 2025
"D'ye mean what ye say, J'rome?" he asked, wistfully, in a tone that was new to him. "Yes, I do; you can have the money as well as not." "I'll give ye my note, an' ye can have this piece of land an' the shop this ain't mortgaged as security, an' I'll pay ye fair per cent.," Ozias said, hesitatingly. "All right," returned Jerome.
Mind ye, J'rome, I ain't sayin' this to anybody but you, an' I wouldn't say it to you if I didn't think mebbe you could do something to right what he'd done wrong. If he won't do it himself, somebody ought to for him. Tell ye what 'tis, J'rome, one way an' another, I think considerable of the doctor. I've lived with him a good many years now. I've got some books I'll let ye take any time.
"Come quick, J'rome!" "Where to?" "Speak up, can't ye?" cried Ozias, shaking the boy by his small shoulder. "To Basset's!" screamed the boy, shrilly, jerked away from Ozias, and was off, clearing the ground like a hound, with long leaps. "Lord," said Ozias, looking at the deed, "it's killed him!" Jerome had freed the horse from the plough, and now sprang upon his back.
It don't no more'n touch riches before it's poor; it don't have time to forget, an' git proud an' hard. I tell ye, J'rome, it ain't even division we're aimin' at; we can't keep that if we get it till we're dead; it's balance. We want to keep the time of eternity, jest the way that clock keeps the time of day."
He felt for Jerome's hand and shook it. "Thank ye, thank ye, J'rome," he repeated, brokenly. "I don't want any thanks," replied Jerome. "Can't you take the money and make Henry go with you to Boston and see the doctor, if she won't?" "It's no use goin' agin her, J'rome." "I believe she's crazy." "No, she ain't, J'rome no, she ain't. She knows how you saved up that money, an' she won't take it.
"There's one thing I want to tell ye, J'rome, and I want ye to remember it," Jake Noyes had said, "and that is, a doctor had ought to be like jurymen he'd ought to be sworn in to be unprejudiced when he goes to see a patient, just as a juryman is when he goes to court. If you don't know what ails 'em, don't ye go to speculatin', as to what 'tis an' what ye'll do, on the way there.
"Now, J'rome, you look at that old clock there; it was one that b'longed to old Peter Thomas. I bought it when he broke up an' went to the poorhouse. Doctor Prescott he foreclosed on him 'bout ten years ago you don't remember. He had his old house torn down, an' sowed the land down to grass. I s'pose I paid more'n the clock was worth, but I guess it kept the old man in snuff an' terbaccer a while.
"Why, J'rome, don't you see who 'tis?" cried his mother, in her sharp, excited voice, yet with an encouraging smile the smile of a mother who would put a child upon its best behavior for the sake of her own pride. Jerome murmured, "Good-evening." He made a desperate grasp at his self-possession, but scarcely succeeded.
Plodding along his homeward road, a man passed him at a rapid stride. John Upham started. "Hullo, J'rome," he called, but getting no response, thought he had been mistaken. However, the man was Jerome, but the tumult of his soul almost deafened him to voices of the flesh.
Lucina pulled a little fleecy white wrap over her head, and immediately took leave. Jerome stood aside to let her pass. Elmira followed her to the outer door, and his mother called him in a sharp whisper, "J'rome, come here." When he had reached his mother's side she pinched his arm hard. "Go home with her," she whispered. Jerome stared at her. "Do ye hear what I say? Go home with her."
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