"
"When it hain't a pleasure," said Scattergood. "Recall what place Avery
Sutphin went to?"
"Seems like it was Oswego. Some'eres out West like that."
"Wisht all the town 'u'd quit traipsin' over here," said Pliny. "Never
see sich curiosity. They needn't to think they're goin' to git a look at
the critter while he's a-cookin'. No, siree. Nobody but this here
committee sees him till he's took out final, ready fer eatin'."
All that day visitors arrived in town. They drove in, came by train and
by stage--and walked. There was no house whose ready hospitality was not
taxed to its capacity, and the ladies in charge of the restaurant in
Masonic Hall became frantic and sent out hysterical messengers for more
food and more help. Every house was dressed in flags and bunting. Even
Deacon Pettybone, reputed to be the "nearest" inhabitant of the village,
flew one small cotton flag, reputed to have cost fifteen cents, from his
front stoop. The bridge was so covered with red, white, and blue as to
quite lose its identity as a bridge and to become one of the wonders of
the world, to be talked about for a decade. As one looked up the street
a similarity of motion, almost machinelike, was apparent.
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