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Updated: May 22, 2025
"Your grandpa and your grandma," pronounced Grandma Watterby, "died 'bout a year after your ma was married. I guess they never saw you. Your aunties was all of twenty years older than she was. Your ma was the youngest of a large family of children, but they all died babies 'cept the two oldest and the youngest. Funny wasn't it?" Betty waved her braiding wildly.
The Watterby household was eager to hear what had happened to her on her unplanned-for ride, and she told them that Clover had taken her some miles before she could be halted. She did not go into details. "Now, Bob!" She fairly dragged him from the supper table, ignoring his suggestion that they help Grandma Watterby wash the dishes. "I can't wait another minute, not even to help Grandma.
"Fred Watterby brought me here the day we were married," the old woman replied, letting her sewing fall into her lap. "Sixty years ago come next October. I was married on my seventeenth birthday." She sat in a little reverie, and Bob and Betty braided quietly, unwilling to disturb her, although the same question was in their minds.
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