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Updated: May 9, 2025
Often I had sat on the store-porch and listened to his stories of his feats, and I believed that to cross him in any way must be the height of daring. The tale of the men whom he had whipped in the past and promised to whip in the future if they raised a finger against him would almost have made a census of the valley.
When Tom climbed into his seat and they drove away, the store-porch seemed quite crowded with those who watched their triumphant departure. Sheba looked back and saw Mornin showing her teeth and panting for breath, while Molly Hollister waved the last baby's sunbonnet, holding its denuded owner in her arms. The drive was a long one, but the travellers enjoyed it from first to last.
"When I see you sitting there, Tom, just as you used to sit in your chair on the store-porch, it seems as if it could hardly be you that's talking. Why, man, it'll mean a million!" "If I get money enough to set the mines at work," said Tom, "it may mean more millions than one."
He had laid aside his overcoat, and sat before me clad in his waiter's clothes, but the waiter's mien was gone. With his legs crossed, his hands clasped over one knee, his head drawn down between his shoulders, he seemed the languid, weary man of the store-porch, whose eyes quickened only at the trumpet-call to debate. Clearly his attitude toward me was one of antagonism.
When they arrived at the station they saw Dick Ford and John Walker on the store-porch. Harry soon discovered that no wood had been cut for several days, because the creek was up. "What had that to do with it?" asked Harry. "Why, you see, Mah'sr Harry," said John Walker, "de creek was mighty high, and dere was no knowin' how things ud turn out. So we thought we'd jist wait and see."
"The activest man sets around mostly," I once heard Stacy Shunk remark as he sat curled up on the store-porch, nursing a bare foot and viewing the world through the top of his hat. Did the most active man calmly and without egotism dissect the sum of his useful accomplishment, he would be highly discouraged, for time is a relentless destroyer.
"It's got to be done, and it's no work for him!" When he reached the Cross-roads there were already two or three early arrivals lounging on the store-porch and wondering why the doors were not opened. The first man who saw him, opened upon him the usual course of elephantine witticisms. "Look a yere, Tom," he drawled, "this ain't a-gwine to do.
Rob ran around the house to see if there was an open window, and finding none, he went back to the door and lay down to wait. Harry and Kate ran home as fast as they could, and after a while Rob came too. He had waited a reasonable time at the door of the barn, but the man had not come out. "She did it all," said Harry, when they had told the tale to half the village, on the store-porch.
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