"Glory, yes! She was scared to death to come here for a while."

"And Phil wickedly suggested we scare her again! But she was afraid of

it. She was sure the house would be struck by lightning the first

thunder-storm we'd have. And when we put the bath tub into the house--

whew! Didn't she give us lectures then! She has no use for 'swimmin'

tubs' to this day. If folks can't wash clean out of a basin they must

be powerful dirty! That's her opinion."

Both laughed at the remembrance of the old woman's words. Then the girl

asked, "What did she have to say to you to-day? Did she iron any

wrinkles out of you?"

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"Oh, I got it a'ready." The man chuckled. "I was plantin' potatoes till

my back was near broke and I came in to rest a little and get a drink.

She told me it's funny people got to rest so often in these days when

they do a little work. She worked in the fields often and she could

stand more yet than a lot o' lazy men. I didn't answer her but I came

out here and got my rest just the same. She ain't bossin' her brother

Amos yet! But now I got to work faster for this doin' nothin' under the

tree."

When Amanda entered the kitchen she found her mother and the visitor

cutting carpet rags. Old clothes were falling under the snip of the

shears into a peach basket, ready to be sewn together, wound into balls

and woven into rag carpet by the local carpet weaver on his hand loom.

"Hello," said the girl as she laid a few books on the kitchen table.

"Books again," sniffed Aunt Rebecca. "I wonder now how much money gets

spent for books that ain't necessary."

"Oh, lots of it," answered the girl cheerfully.

"Umph, did you buy those?"

"Yes, when I went to Millersville."

"My goodness, what a lot o' money goes for such things these days!

There's books about everything, somebody told me. There's even some

wrote about the Pennsylvania Dutch and about that there Stiegel glass

some folks make such a fuss about. I don't see nothin' in that Stiegel

glass to make it so dear. Why, I had a little white glass pitcher,

crooked it was, too, and nothin' extra to look at. But along come one

of them anteak men, so they call themselves, the men that buy up old

things. Anyhow, he offered to give me a dollar for that little pitcher.

Ach, I didn't care much for it, though it was Jonas's granny's still. I

sold it to that man quick before he'd change his mind and mebbe only

give me fifty cents."

"You sold it?" asked Amanda. "And was it this shape?"




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