"Times come and seasons change," said Grandmother. "We have to expect to let 'em go. We are lucky to have them coming, even if we do have to let them go again."
"Young John—Buddy she calls him—is as likely a young feller as I ever see."
"And as handsome."
"John—he's made a fine job of his business and a fine job of his life, as far as I can see. He keeps remarkable young for a man of his way of living, too. Don't dissipate none. I expect that's the secret of it. He picked himself up a pretty likely wife, too—good looking and sweet natured and no nonsense about her. She looks like her, too."
"She's going to be about her mother's size, I should say, when she gets her growth. She ain't quite so fair, but she's got the same eyes, and the same long, light-coloured lashes."
"But her mouth's all Swift," said Grandfather. "You know that tintype we got of John. Why, cut her hair off, and put her in a boy's shirt and necktie and she'd be the image of him."
"When they stood up there together by the door just before they started, and he put his arm around your shoulder, the likeness stood out plain then."
"Where's Judidy to-night? Gone out with her feller?"
"No, not to-night. The poor critter felt so bad when she see that car pulling out of the yard that she burst out into a fit of crying, and put her apron over her head and run off. She hasn't been heard from since."
"Judidy was fond of her, and she had cause to be. I guess she give her almost a complete wedding outfit out of her own fixings that she brought down."