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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Shavings"

When
Grover repeated his question he seemed to hear it for the first
time and then not very clearly.
"Eh?" he drawled. "Oh, why--er--yes, there IS somethin' wrong.
That is to say, there ain't, and that's the wrong part of it. I
don't seem to have forgotten anything, that's the trouble."
His friend burst out laughing.
"I should scarcely call that a trouble," he said.
"Shouldn't you? No, I presume likely you wouldn't. But I never go
anywhere without forgettin' somethin', forgettin' to say somethin'
or do somethin' or bring somethin'. Never did in all my life. Now
here I am home again and I can't remember that I've forgot a single
thing. . . . Hum. . . . Well, I declare! I wonder what it means.
Maybe, it's a sign somethin's goin' to happen."
He said good night absent-mindedly. Grover laughed and walked away
to meet Ruth and her brother, who, with Barbara dancing ahead, were
coming along the sidewalk. He had gone but a little way when he
heard Mr. Winslow shouting his name.
"Major!" shouted Jed. "Major Grover! It's all right, Major, I
feel better now. I've found it. 'Twas the key. I left it in the
front door lock here when I went away this mornin'. I guess
there's nothin' unnatural about me, after all; guess nothin's goin'
to happen."
But something did and almost immediately. Jed, entering the outer
shop, closed the door and blundered on through that apartment and
the little shop adjoining until he came to his living-room beyond.


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