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Updated: June 13, 2025


Strout, chewing his cigar vigorously. "For the reason," said Quincy, "that we don't keep store to please our competitors, but to serve the public. I believe in low prices in sugar, tea, and coffee, to draw trade. But general cuts in prices are ruinous in the end, for our competitors will cut too, and we shall all lose money."

You must come down and tell us all about it. Just to think more'n twenty years but you're looking well." Quincy assured him that his health was never better. "What I wanted to see you about are affairs in Fernborough. What is Strout up to?" "You've used just the right word. He's up to something.

Leave your trunk at station. Something important. As they were leaving the office Quincy met Tobias Smith, father of Abbott and Ellis Smith, and Wallace Stackpole. "Glad to see you, Guv'nor," said 'Bias. "You remember Mr. Stackpole that we gave Strout's job of tax-collector to he's held it ever since. We're mighty glad Strout lives in Fernborough.

Do you suppose he means all he says? No! No more than I do. When I get enough money, there won't be but one partner in that grocery store, and his name will be O. Strout." At the breakfast table next morning, Maude sat with her head bent over her plate. All were awaiting Olive's advent with the fruit. "At your devotions, Maude?" asked Alice.

"Oh, but I am afraid of him," sighed Amy. "He spoke so threateningly." "Yes, Momsy and Amy think he has something up his sleeve," said Gummy, carelessly. "But I think Abel Strout is licked, thanks to Mr. Day." Janice was very careful to repeat the particulars of this scene Gummy had so vividly related to her father in the evening.

Saturday morning is to be bargain day and everything is to be sold at half price. And, say, isn't the hotel fine? Everybody was invited upstairs, an' there was a free lunch spread out." "Abner, you've talked enough. You'd better go home." The warfare continued for three months. At the end of the first, Hiram Maxwell, an old soldier, was appointed postmaster, vice Obadiah Strout.

In the store of the Strout and Maxwell Company quite a number of the town's people were gathered about the big air-tight stove which was kept stuffed full of wood by willing hands and from which came great waves of almost scorching heat. Such congregations of villagers are often said to be composed of loafers and loungers, but it was not so at Fernborough.

Sawyer's in the store?" "Went up in smoke, didn't I tell yer?" "I beg your pardon," said the stranger again. "But doesn't your store stand on land belonging to the old firm?" Strout squinted at the stranger. "I guess you're a lawyer lookin' for points, but you're on the wrong track. You won't get 'em." "I'm not a lawyer, Mr. Strout. I only inquired thinking my friend Mr. Maxwell might "

"I went to buy somethin' for an individual who shall be nameless out of respect " "Go on with your story," shouted Strout. "You'd better hurry home with that sugar or the 'Master' may make it hot for you." This remark caused a laugh at Abner's expense. "Jes' go ahead, Abner," said Benoni, "we're all a-waitin'." "Well, I met a feller on the train and he buzzed me all the way here.

"I'm tired hearing about him," said Strout. "Can't you give us something new?" "Yes, I kin," said Abner. "Boys, I've got something funny to tell you. I went to Cottonton this afternoon and I'd jest got back when they sent me for the sugar." "What ye doin' over there?" asked Benoni. Abner scratched his head then winked at Benoni.

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