Cyn. I haven’t seen him yet. He jest sent me a message by Bennie Hill.
Hep. And you ain’t the slightest idee who it is?
Cyn. Not the slightest.
Hep. My land! I shan’t sleep a wink to-night. Land sakes! Who could it be, Cynth? To want a house all furnished? Why in the land o’ goshen ain’t they got furniture o’ their own? Must be somebody awful queer coming to town. Good land, that reminds me! I most forgot to tell you! Arey Freeman is at home.
Cyn. Why, what do you mean, Hepsy?
Hep. Jest that! She come on the afternoon train. Her eyes hev give out and the doctor won’t let her study any more this year an’ she’s come home.
Cyn. Why, I can’t believe it. Are you sure, Hepsy? Have you seen her?
Hep. Oh, yes, I’ve been over. My Sammy told me first an’ I declare to goodness I didn’t know whether it was the truth or one of Sammy’s fairy tales. Sometimes I think that young one will be the death of me an’ Lem before we ever get him raised. It’s the most wearing thing! He keeps us guessing all the time. You can’t tell more’n half the time whether he’s telling the truth or lyin’!
Cyn. Oh, Hepsy, you shouldn’t speak that way about Sammy. He’s a dear little fellow and awful good-hearted, and——
Hep. (interrupting). Now don’t you go to takin’ his part! He’s all you say maybe but that don’t make it out he can’t tell the biggest yarns of any young one that walks! And what do you suppose? His father went into the store the other day and found him telling one of his tales to the Center Church minister. Lem like to have swooned. He said he guessed things had gone jest about far enough and he walked Sammy home in a hurry, I tell you! And do you know the Rev. Mr. Peters told Lem he ought not to blame Sammy. Well, Lem was struck in a heap. “Not blame him fer lyin’?” says Lem. “He don’t mean it that way,” says Mr. Peters. “The boy is a wonder. Why, genius just burns in him and he must let it out. If he keeps on this way you may have a famous writer in your family some day.” Wal, I declare to goodness, Lem nearly went crazy. He warmed Sammy plenty that night and then he set a shingle up on the kitchen mantel and told Sammy to keep his eye on it, and when he felt genius burning to jest remember that with his father’s help that shingle could make things a good deal hotter for him than ever genius thought of doing. A writer! My land! Lem can’t stand anything sissy, you know. The Sawyers have always been able-bodied men, and able to do a day’s work as long as they breathed. Why, Grandfather Sawyer lived to be a hundred and three, and weighed two hundred, an’ the day he died he worked six hours and ate seven pancakes and five hot biscuit for his tea. That was his last night on this earth.