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Updated: June 7, 2025
"Don't speak so loud, you'll wake the baby. You buy the things, Mehit. I'll see that they're paid for." "How your mother'd love that!" "My mother will have nothing to do with it." "Why, you ain't even self-supportin' yet," declared Miss Upton bluntly. "'T ain't anything to your discredit, of course; you ain't ready," she added kindly.
My dandy mother is giving me something I've been aching to have." Miss Upton's face brightened. "Yes, I know. Something's being built way back o' your house. Folks are wonderin' what it is. It looks like some queer kind of a stable. What in the world can you want, Ben! You've got the cars and a motor-cycle, and a saddle-horse." "Well" confidentially "don't tell, Mehit, but I wanted a zebra.
Miss Mehitable's mental perturbation and physical weariness had given her plump face a troubled cast, accented by the fact that her hat was slightly askew. The young man hurried forward and was in time to ease his portly friend down the last step of her car. "Howdy, Miss Mehit?" he said. "You look as if the great city hadn't treated you well."
"You see that's one thing that's the matter with Charlotte," said Miss Mehitable. "She does hate to think I'm keepin' anything from her and she felt it in the air." "Do you believe she'll visit you in prison? I'll address the jury myself. I maintain that one punishment's enough. You at least deserve a holiday. Say, Mehit, me dear, I've a big surprise for you, too.
"You've surely caught me in my regimentals!" Miss Upton's regimentals consisted of ample and billowy apron effects over a short petticoat. Her hair was brushed straight off her round face and twisted in a knot as tight as Charlotte's own; and she wore large list slippers. "Don't you care, Mehit. I look like a blackamoor myself.
Miss Upton gazed in speechless hope and gratitude at the young man as he rose and paced up and down the piazza in thought. "Oh, Ben," she ejaculated, clasping her hands, "to think that I'm in time to get you to do this before you kill yourself in that aeroplane!" "Nothing of the sort, my dear Mehit" he returned.
Ben Barry, his arms folded, looked on at the tableau while Geraldine murmured welcome and reassurance. "Aren't we the happiest people in the world, Pete?" she finished softly. He choked. "Yes, and I'm not going back," he was able to say at last. "I should say not," put in Ben. "I've brought somebody to help you move, Mehit," he added. Miss Upton was still staring at the dwarf's legs.
I'll call for you at three," said Ben, "Blackstone under my arm. If Merry Sunshine attacks me it will be a trusty weapon. Hop into the car, Mehit, and we'll run you home." Mrs. Barry laughed. "The sermon doesn't seem to have done him any good this morning, Miss Upton. We shall be glad to take you home." The Good Fairy So again Mrs. Whipp saw her friend and employer descend from the Barry car.
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