Tell your ma I'll come up an' see her ag'in
afore long."
"Yes, ma'am."
"An' you won't forget to send over that cider?"
"No, ma'am."
"I'm ashamed to trouble ye, but their ain't anybody over to our
house that I can send. There's Tom grudges doin' anything for his
old grandma'am. A'ter all that I do for him, too! Good-by!"
The old lady set out on her way to Mrs. Frost's.
Her road lay through the woods, where an unforeseen danger lay in
wait for her.
Meanwhile Pomp was pursuing military science under difficulties.
The weight of the musket made it very awkward for him to handle.
Several times he got out of patience with it, and apostrophized
it in terms far from complimentary. At last, in one of his
awkward maneuvers, he accidentally pulled the trigger. Instantly
there was a loud report, followed by a piercing shriek from the
road. The charge had entered old Mrs. Payson's umbrella and
knocked it out of her hand. The old lady fancied herself hit, and
fell backward, kicking energetically, and screaming "murder" at
the top of her lungs.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282