Fortunately remembering that she saw her father beheading
chickens the night before, which guaranteed a substantial meal, she
decided it was an absolute duty.
As L. Middleton emerged from the baggage room in a fresh collar, even
higher than the other, he threw an ornamental bottle of violet water into
Fannie's lap to keep company with the horseshoe. Immediately Hope arose
at the combination, and Settled under the left folds of Fannie's pink
shirt waist; for Middleton seems a distinguished name to one who has been
called Penney for twenty-eight years, and romance had never died in the
heart under the pink waist for the reason that it was only at this moment
being born.
On arriving at home, Fate continued to prove kind. Mrs. Penney was
inspired to ask the guest to "stop to dinner," without any hints or
gesticulations being necessary, which might have marred the first
impression. Not only did the chickens appear at the table, where no
canned food was present, but there was a deep cherry pie as well, which
was eaten with peculiar relish by the commercial traveller, accustomed to
the awful fare of New England country hotels, where he was often obliged
to use his own samples to fill gaps. He gazed about at the comfortable
kitchen, and won Mamma Penney by praising the food and saying that he was
raised on a farm. Father Penney took a hasty bite in the buttery, and
soon disappeared to rescue his goods from the highway.
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