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Updated: May 15, 2025
Well, one day I stopped at Jucklin's house to get out of the rain he hadn't been married long and soon after I went into the sitting-room, the wife began to whisper to the husband, and when she went out, which she did a moment later, Jucklin turned to me and said: 'Go up stairs, take off your britches and throw 'em down here, and I'll bring 'em back to you after a while. I was actually out at the knees, sir, and I did as he told me, and when he brought my trousers back they were neatly patched.
He was having a round with his chickens, to fan off the atmosphere of humiliation, to blow away the hot ashes that were so thick upon him. I remembered that I had not delivered Mrs. Jucklin's message, and I hastened out to the "stockade," and knocked at the gate. "Hike, there, boys! Who's that? Whoa, boys, that'll do! Go in there, Sam! Ho, it's you, eh?" he said, opening the gate.
He was silent and I nodded to him, waiting for him to continue. He moved his shoulders as if to work himself into an easier position, and then he resumed his talk. "Of my own volition I would not have gone over to Jucklin's house to break that engagement I would have waited but my son told me to go, and after I had gone, why, of course, I had to act my part.
As we drove toward Perdue's I wondered what could have caused old man Jucklin's change of manner at the time he had spoken of sending his daughter away to be educated. Surely, he could not deplore the grace and refinement which this schooling had given her. Would it be well to ask Alf? No; he could but regard such a question as a direct impertinence.
Say, you seem to blame me for the interest I am taking in this affair. Have you stopped to think of the interest you are taking in it? Jucklin's no relation of yours and probably never will be. Did you hear what I said? Probably never will be." "Unfortunately I haven't an apple tree sprout with me to-day, Mr. Etheredge." "And it's a good thing for you that you haven't.
She went with me to the stable, saying not a word; and when I had turned the horse loose she followed me to the sitting-room. At the door I faltered, but Mrs. Jucklin's voice bade me enter. She was sitting in a rocking-chair, with the Bible in her lap, and placing her hand upon the book, she thus spoke to me: "Don't hesitate to talk, for His rod and His staff shall comfort me."
"I am not a child except in my lack of wisdom," I answered. "Gad, you talk like a preacher. Which way are you going?" "Over to Lim Jucklin's house." He gave me another square look and remarked, "That's my name." "You don't tell me so?" "Didn't you hear me tell you so?" "Yes, but " "Well, then, I did tell you so." "I am delighted to meet you, sir.
Mother and I try hard to reform him, but we can't." It was Mrs. Jucklin's time-grayed privilege to apologize for the scantiness of her fare, and this she did with becoming modesty and regret. She had not expected company; the regular dinner hour was over long ago, and somehow she never could understand why she couldn't get a meal out of the regular time.
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