What say?"
Mr. Spackles's beaming face was answer enough.
Grandmother Penny and Mr. Spackles went to the circus in a more or less
surreptitious manner. It was a wonderful day, a successful day, such a
day as neither of them had expected ever to see again, and when they
drove home through the moonlight, across the mountains, their souls
were no longer the souls of threescore and ten, but of twoscore and one.
"Great day, wa'n't it, Ellen?" said Mr. Spackles, softly.
"Don't call to mind nothin' approachin' it, James."
"You be powerful good company, Ellen."
"So be you, James."
"I calculate to come and set with you, often," said James, diffidently.
"Whenever the notion strikes you, James," replied Grandmother Penny, and
she blushed for the first time in a score of years.
Two days later Pliny Pickett stopped to speak to Scattergood in front of
the hardware store. Pliny supplemented and amplified the weekly
newspaper, and so was very useful to Baines.
"Hear tell Ol' Man Spackles is sparkin' Grandmother Penny," Pliny said,
with a grin. "Don't figger nothin' 'll come of it, though. Their
childern won't allow it."
"Won't allow it, eh? What's the reason? What business is 't of theirn?"
"Have to support 'em.
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