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Catherwood, Mary Hartwell, 1847-1902

"Old Caravan Days"


"Since father died I have," replied the toll-woman. "Father moved in
here when about everything else failed him, and he'd lost ambition,
and laws! now I am used to it. I might gone back to Ohio, but when
you fit me into a place I never want to pull up out of it."
"And don't you ever get afraid, nights or any time, without men
folks about?"
"Before I got used to being alone, I did. And there's reason yet
every little while. But I only got one bad scare."
A wagon paused at the front door, so near the horses might have put
their heads in and sniffed up the merchandise, and the woman went to
take toll, before telling about her bad scare.
"How do you manage in the nights?" inquired her guest.
"That's bad about fair-times, when the wild young men get to racin'
late along. The pole's been cut when I tied it down, and sometimes
they've tried to jump it. But generally the travellers are peaceable
enough. I've got a box in the front door like a letter-box, with a
slit outside for them to drop change into, and the pole rope pulls
down through the window-frame. There ain't so much travel by night as
there used to be, and a body learns to be wakeful anyhow if they've
ever had the care of sick old people.


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