"_He_ ain't wo' out with
work and with child bearin' befo' he was ninety. _He_ ain't bald,
_he_ ain't toothless," she concluded passionately, as if each of
grandfather's blessings were an additional insult to her. "He can still
eat hard food when he wants it."
"For pity's sake, be quiet, ma," commanded Sarah sternly, at which the
old woman broke into sobs.
"Yes, I must be quiet, but _he_ can still talk," she moaned.
"Tell me about it, Archie," said Abel, drawing off his overcoat and
sitting down to his supper. "I passed Jonathan Gay in the road and he
asked me to bind up his horse's sprain."
"He'd be damned befo' I'd bind up a sprain for him!" burst out Archie,
with violence. "Met me with a string of partridges this morning and
jumped on me, blast him, as if he'd caught me in the act of stealing.
I'd like to know if we hadn't hunted on that land before he or his
rotten old uncle were ever thought of?"
"Ah, those were merry days, those were!" piped grandfather. "Used to go
huntin' myself when I was young, with Mr. Jordan, an' brought home any
day as many fine birds as I could carry. Trained his dogs for him, too.
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