"
"Um!... Now, Marvin, I'd be mighty curious to learn if the ol' man got
that information from God himself or if it come out of his own head....
No matter, I calc'late. 'Twan't credit with the church young Mavin was
after when he sent back the money, and the Lord _he_ knows the money
come, if the organ fund never did find it out."
"Guess I'll take a walk down to Spackles's and look over the steer. They
tell me he dressed clost to nine hunderd. Hope they contrive to cook him
through and through. Never see a barbecued critter yit that was done....
Folks is beginnin' to git here. Guess they won't be a spare bedroom in
town that hain't full up."
Scattergood pulled on his shoes and, leaving his store to take care of
itself, walked up the road, turned across the mowing which had been
metamorphosed into an athletic field, trusted his weight to the
temporary bridge across the brook, and scrambled up the bank to the
great oven where the steer was to be baked, and where the potato hole
was ready to receive twenty bushels of potatoes and the arch was ready
to receive the sugar vat in which two thousand ears of corn were to be
steamed.
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