I declare I hardly dast to wake up
mornin's for fear I'll find out our havin' such a smart feller is
only a dream and that the livin' calamity is Lute Small. And to
think," he added, "that you knew about him for the land knows how
long and would only hint instead of tellin'. I don't know as you'd
have told yet if his sister hadn't told first. Eh? Would you?"
Jed deliberately picked a loose bristle from his paint brush.
"Maybe not," he admitted.
"Gracious king! Well, WHY not?"
"Oh, I don't know. I'm kind of--er--funny that way. Like to take
my own time, I guess likely. Maybe you've noticed it, Sam."
"Eh? MAYBE I've noticed it? A blind cripple that was born deef
and dumb would have noticed that the first time he ran across you.
What on earth are you doin' to that paint brush; tryin' to
mesmerize it?"
His friend, who had been staring mournfully at the brush, now laid
it down.
"I was tryin' to decide," he drawled, "whether it needed hair tonic
or a wig. So you like this Charlie Phillips, do you?"
"Sartin sure I do! And the customers like him, too. Why, old
Melissa Busteed was in yesterday and he waited on her for half an
hour, seemed so, and when the agony was over neither one of 'em had
got mad enough so anybody outside the buildin' would notice it.
And that's a miracle that ain't happened in that bank for more'n
ONE year.
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