"
"Thar was al'ays time for him to go huntin'," whimpered grandmother.
"What are you goin' to do about it, Abel?" asked Sarah, turning upon him
with the smoking skillet in her hand.
At the question Blossom Revercomb, who was seated at work under the
lamp, raised her head and waited with an anxious, expectant look for the
answer. She was embroidering a pair of velvet slippers for Mr. Mullen--a
task begun with passion and now ending with weariness. While she
listened for Abel's response, her long embroidery needle remained
suspended over the toe of the slipper, where it gleamed in the lamp
light.
"I don't know," replied Abel, and Blossom drew a repressed sigh of
relief; "I've just ordered him to keep clear of our land, if that's what
you're hintin' at."
"If you had the sperit of yo' grandpa you'd have knocked him down in the
road," said Sarah angrily.
"Yes, yes, I'd have knocked him down in the road," chimed in the old
man, with the eagerness of a child.
"You can't knock a man down when he asks to borrow your lantern,"
returned Abel, doggedly, on the defensive.
"Oh, you can't, can't you?" jeered Sarah.
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