"I want to say somethin' an' I don't know what."
Old Jasper put his arm about her. "It's in the way of nature, my dear,"
he said and upon his shoulder she wept, the wagon waiting, the driver
munching; and on the fence and in the trees the birds that had been
wedding guests were singing, having come down from the vine-knob to
carrol them a good-bye. At last there was nothing more to be said and
the driver popped his hickory bark whip and the wagon rolled away.
Jasper went into the house and sat down, deep in thought, but for a long
time Margaret stood at the gate, and the old man saw her sobbing in her
apron. She came into the room when no longer could she hear the wagon
rattling over the stones, high up the hill, and he said to her: "In the
way of nature, my dear, and you mustn't grieve. I count her a very lucky
girl. That young feller will make her a good livin' and--"
"Well," Margaret broke in, "she deserves it. You talk as if he wan't
lucky too. But I jest want to tell you he is and you needn't say he
ain't. You ought to be ashamed of yo'se'f to belittle yo' own daughter
thatter way.
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