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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Eben Holden, a tale of the north country"

Double or single, want ye if both
promise me t'be hum Crissmus.
We promised.
'Now childern,' said he. ''S time if go if bed. B'lieve ye'd stan'
there swappin' kisses 'till ye was knee sprung if I didn't tell ye
t' quit.
Hope came and put her arms about his neck, fondly, and kissed
him good-night.
'Did Bill prance right up like a man?' he asked, his hand upon her
shoulder.
'Did very well,' said she, smiling, 'for a man with a wooden leg.
Uncle Eb sank into a chair, laughing heartily, and pounding his
knee. It seemed he had told her that I was coming home with a
wooden leg! 'That is the reason I held your arm,' she said. 'I was
expecting to hear it squeak every moment as we left the depot. But
when I saw that you walked so naturally I knew Uncle Eb had been
trying to fool me.
'Purty good sort uv a lover, ain't he?' said he after we were done
laughing.
'He wouldn't take no for an answer,' she answered.
'He was alwuss a gritty cuss,' said Uncle Eb, wiping his eyes with a
big red handkerchief as he rose to go.


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