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Updated: May 1, 2025
Peter Meserve says Grandpa Sawyer was a wonderful hand at stories before his spirit was broken by grandmother.
He said lots of folks would sooner tell folks my head wasn't right than to own up they couldn't see through it." "I'm sure I wouldn't say so," returned Mrs. Emerson reproachfully. "You know better than that, I hope." "Yes, I do," replied Mrs. Meserve. "I know you wouldn't say so." "And I wouldn't tell it to a soul if you didn't want me to." "Well, I'd rather you wouldn't."
"Well, I don't see why you couldn't pay me for that as well as Mr. Evans." "Don't you?" "No." "Well, I do. Now, Mrs. Slocum, I really have no more time to waste. Mr. Meserve is a very sick man, and I have to go to him. I came down here to consult with my assistant, and you have hindered us. Good-day!" But the woman still stood her ground. "I'm goin' to see him," she said. "He's my boarder."
"Do you know anything about the new flag, Rebecca?" shrieked Mrs. Meserve, too agitated, at the moment, to notice the child's companion. "It's right here in my lap, all safe," responded Rebecca joyously. "You careless, meddlesome young one, to take it off my steps where I left it just long enough to go round to the back and hunt up my door-key!
The summer term at Wareham had ended, and Huldah Meserve, Dick Carter, and Living Perkins had finished school, leaving Rebecca and Emma Jane to represent Riverboro in the year to come. Delia Weeks was at home from Lewiston on a brief visit, and Mrs.
They never talk of chargers and palfreys in the village, nor say How oft and Methinks, and if a Scotchman out of Rob Roy should come to Riverboro and want to marry one of us girls we could not understand him unless he made motions; though Huldah Meserve says if a nobleman of high degree should ask her to be his, one of vast estates with serfs at his bidding, she would be able to guess his meaning in any language.
"You should have had it a week ago, but Huldah Meserve upset the ink bottle over her star, and we had to baste on another one. You are the last, though, and then we shall sew the stars and stripes together, and Seth Strout will get the top ready for hanging.
John Emerson was the first to whom she imparted it. The two women had been friends ever since Mrs. Meserve had married Simon Meserve and come to the village to live. Mrs. Meserve was a pretty woman, moving with graceful flirts of ruffling skirts; her clear-cut, nervous face, as delicately tinted as a shell, looked brightly from the plumy brim of a black hat at Mrs. Emerson in the window. Mrs.
"Can I get out now, please?" asked Rebecca. "I want to go back, for Mrs. Meserve will be dreadfully nervous when she finds out she dropped the flag, and it hurts her health to be nervous." "No, you don't," objected Mr. Simpson gallantly, turning the horse. "Do you think I'd let a little creeter like you lug that great heavy bundle?
You wouldn't have had me let it out of my sight, would you, and we going to raise it tomorrow morning?" "Rebecca's perfectly right, Mrs. Meserve!" said Miss Dearborn proudly. "And it's lucky there was somebody quick-witted enough to ride and consort' with Mr. Simpson! Sixth Chronicle.
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