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Queer idea she has about names fitting people, and yet it isn't so queer, either, when you come to think of it. Rose might have been named Abigail or Jerusha, yet I believe people would have found out she was like a rose and called her by her proper name." Colonel Kent flashed a quick glance at him, but the expression of his face had not changed. "And Isabel?" he queried, lightly.
Well, Black-Eyes began to scold, and so, at last, she ventured across, and then she said she was tired and thirsty, and did wish she had a glass of milk; and so I asked her to go to the house, and rest a few minutes, and Aunt Jerusha would give them some milk.
Sweet to see if Jerusha left her breastpin, 'cause in her quick breathin' it had fallen somewhere an' Jerusha was havin' hysterics over losin' that now. While I was talkin' to Mrs. Sweet at the gate I smelt somethin' burnin' an' there my whole bakin' of bread was burnt up in the oven owin' to Jerusha Dodd's breathin' her breastpin out over a bat. I felt to be some tempered then, an' Mrs.
"Is he in earnest?" I heard Blue-Eyes inquire. "Wall, now, I shouldn't be surprised," avowed Aunt Jerusha. "He's been powerful low-spirited lately. You see, ladies, he was born that bashful that life is a burden to him." I walked on in the direction of the barn; I would not pause to listen or to cast a backward glance.
He lingered in great agony at times till the 9th of October, 1747, when came a cessation of pain, and during this lull he breathed his last, then wanting six months of his thirtieth birthday. He had told Jerusha that they should soon meet above, and, in effect, she only lived until the next February.
"Now I know that blessed little creeter has got hurt, an' they wouldn't let me know afore the rest." "It isn't in the letter," declared Mrs. Henderson, in a loud, hasty tone, hurrying out of her chair. "Peletiah, what does your father want, do you know?" "I don't know exactly," said Peletiah deliberately, "only Aunt Jerusha tumbled down the cellar stairs; maybe that's it."
There was a light in his pale blue eyes as he bent them on Miss Jerusha, that made her look away a minute, but she soon returned to the charge. "I never was allowed to sit idle in the day-time," she said, "when I was a little girl." "I don't believe you ever were little," said Joel, bluntly, and glaring at her across the kitchen. "Joel, Joel!" cried Polly, in great distress.
Instead, she drew herself up stiffer than ever, and stared at the child. "Ah, well, I hope she won't forget that she's very poor, and that you've taken her out of pity," said Miss Jerusha. Rachel started back as if shot, and her black eyes flashed. "I ain't poor," she screamed. "I ain't goin' to be pitied."
When Aunt Jerusha let the cat out of the bag about my bashfulness, Blue-Eyes flashed, at me from under her long eyelashes a glance so roguish, so perfectly infatuating, that my heart behaved like a thermometer that is plunged first into a tea-kettle and then into snow; it went up into my throat, and then down into my boots.
"I came to see you, little girl," said Miss Jerusha severely, seating herself stiffly by Polly's side. "Thank you, ma'am," said Polly, faintly. "Who's this boy?" asked the lady, turning around squarely on Joel, and eying him from head to foot. "He's my brother Joel," said Polly. Joel still stared. "Which brother?" pursued Miss Jerusha, like a census-taker.
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