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Mitchell, S. Weir (Silas Weir), 1829-1914

"Westways"

How pleased
James will be! I wonder how the old bachelor ever made up his mind. I
hope you made it pleasant, John."
"I tried to, aunt." Whether James Penhallow would like it was for John
doubtful, but he said nothing further.
"The cities are wild about politics, and there is no end of trouble in
Philadelphia over the case of a fugitive slave. I was glad to get away to
Grey Pine."
John had never heard her mention this tender subject and was not
surprised when she added quickly, "But I never talk politics, John, and
you are too young to know anything about them." This was by no means
true, as she well knew. "How are my chickens?" She asked endless
questions of small moment.
"Got a new fishing-rod," said Billy, but to John's amusement did not
pursue the story concerning which George Grey had gleefully enlightened
him.
"Well, at last, Cousin George," she cried, as the cousin gave her his
hand on the porch. "Glad to see you--most glad. Come in when you have
finished your cigar."
She followed John into the hall. "Ah! the dear home." Then her eyes fell
on the much used spittoon by the fireside. "Good gracious, John, a--a
spittoon!"
"Yes, aunt. Mr. Grey chews."
"Indeed!" She looked at the box and went upstairs. For years to come and
in the most incongruous surroundings John Penhallow now and then laughed
as he saw again the look with which Mrs.


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