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Streeter, John Williams

"The Fat of the Land The Story of an American Farm"

How is he to
support a countenance and mien of dignity while the secrets of his
chest are laid bare and the contents of his trunk dumped on the dirty
floor? And how must his eyes droop and his face take on a hang-dog look
when his second-best coat is searched for diamonds, and his favorite
(though worn) pajamas punched for pearls.
There are concessions to be made for one's great and glorious country,
and the custom-house is one of them. Perhaps we will do better sometime,
and perhaps, though this is unlikely, the customs inspectors of the
future will disguise themselves as gentlemen. We finally passed the
inquisition, and, with stuffed trunks and ruffled spirits, took cabs for
the station, and were presently within the protecting walls at Four
Oaks, there to forget lost dignities in the cultivation of land and new
ones.


CHAPTER LXIII
AN HUNDRED FOLD

Kate declared that she had had the time of her life during her nine
weeks' stay at Four Oaks. "People here every day, and the house full
over Sunday. We've kept the place humming," said she, "and you may be
thankful if you find anything here but a mortgage.


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