The ol' folks hain't got no money. Spackles 's got
two-three hunderd laid by for to bury him, and so's Grandmother Penny.
Seems like ol' folks allus lays by for the funeral, but that's every red
cent they got. I hear tell Mis' Penny's son has forbid Spackles's comin'
around the house."
This proved to be the fact, as Scattergood learned from no less an
authority than Mr. Spackles himself.
"Felt like strikin' him right there 'n' then," said Mr. Spackles,
heatedly, "but I seen 'twouldn't do to abuse one of Ellen's childern."
"Um!... Was you and Grandmother Penny figgerin' on hitchin' up?"
Scattergood asked.
"I put the question," said Mr. Spackles, with the air of a youth of
twenty, "and Ellen up and allowed she'd have me. But I guess 'twon't
never come off now. Seems like I'll never be content ag'in, and Ellen's
that downcast I shouldn't be a mite s'prised if she jest give up and
passed away."
"Difficulty's money, hain't it? Largely financial, eh?"
"Ya-as."
"Folks has got rich before. Maybe somethin' like that'll happen to you."
"Have to happen mighty suddin, Scattergood, if it aims to do any good in
this world.
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