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Updated: May 23, 2025
"What about the pictures and curtains?" inquired Mr. Gwynne. "We don't need them." "Take 'em all," said Mr. Sleighter. "Pictures are like folks. They got faces an' looks. And curtains my missis got hers all packed. Curtains are like clothes they only fit them that owns them." "And the piano?" "Sure thing. Say, a piano in that country is like the village pump the hull country gets about it.
Sleighter had not got on to the job. Now I am going to ask you a straight question. Do you want Ernest Switzer to have Kathleen?" "Well, he's a decent sort and a clever fellow," began Larry. "Now, Larry, you may as well cut that 'decent sort, 'clever fellow' stuff right out. I want to know your mind. Would you like to see Ernest Switzer have Kathleen, or not?" "Would you?" retorted her brother.
This discovery annoyed Mr. Sleighter. He hated to confess a mistake in business judgment, and he frankly confessed he "hated to see good money roll past him." Hence with something of a grudge he prepared to hand over to Mr. Gwynne some twelve hundred and fifty dollars of salvage money. "I suppose he will be selling out his farm," said Mr. Sleighter in conversation with Mr. Martin.
Sleighter is right, and besides I know he is doing us a great kindness." "Kindness, ma'am, not at all. Business is business, and that's all there is to it. Well, I'll be goin'. Think it over, get the papers fixed up by to-morrow. No, don't thank me. Good-bye." Mrs. Gwynne followed him to the door, her face flushed, her eyes aglow, a smile hovering uncertainly about her lips. "Mr.
Look here, my offer is open until six o'clock. After that it's a new deal. Take it or leave it. I will be at your store." "Very well," said Mr. Gwynne stiffly. Mr. Sleighter was distinctly annoyed and disappointed. A few minutes' longer pressure, he was convinced, would have practically closed a deal which would have netted him a considerable profit.
Good Lord, ma'am! nobody never found it out but you durn that cough anyway." And still troubled by his cough, Mr. Sleighter hurried down the path to the gate and out on to the road. Once resolved to break up their home in Eastern Canada, the Gwynnes lost no time in completing their arrangements for the transportation of themselves and their household gods and such of their household goods as Mr.
One of my kid's jokes. Not much of a joke I guess, but he's always ringin' 'em in." "You have a son, Mr. Sleighter? He's in Alberta now?" "No, the missis and the kids, three of them, are in Winnipeg. She got tired of it out there; she was always wantin' the city, so I gave in." "I hear it's a beautiful country out there." "Now you're talkin', ma'am." She had touched Mr.
Of course I knew I must sell in the long run, but couldn't just see my place in anybody else's hands. Somehow it seems different though to see you folks on it. You seem to fit. Anyway, there's the offer. What do you say?" "Sit down, Mr. Sleighter," said Mr. Gwynne. "This is a rather surprising proposition." Mrs. Gwynne's eyes grew soft. "Michael, I think it is wonderful." But Mr.
Sleighter," she said, "the Lord sent you to us because He knew we were in need of guiding." "Ho, ho!" laughed Mr. Sleighter. "Like that Samaritan chap in the reading, eh? I guess you had got among thieves all right, more of 'em perhaps than you recognised too." "He sent you to us," repeated Mrs. Gwynne, offering him her hand. "Well, I donno but that He steered me to you.
So the car was filled with things to eat and to wear, and things "to take the bareness off." Somewhere in the car was found a place for Rosie, the cow, a remarkable milker and "worth her weight in butter," as Mr. Sleighter said, and for Rover, Larry's collie dog, who stood to him as comrade almost as a brother.
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