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

"Westways"

"
"The root of all evil," said Grace.
There were pots that were cracked or bottomless, old novels, and to the
evident dismay of John a favourite smoking jacket. Ann clapped her hands
with delight as John shook at her a finger of reproach. Then came tied up
in paper, which John unrolled, the long-forgotten cane of his youth, and
how it got there the Squire or Billy may have known. John bid, but at
a warning signal from Leila gave up, as she recaptured her property.
There were other apples, with and without money; and so with fun and
merriment the sale went on to Westways' satisfaction.
"What's this," said John, with an unpleasant shock of annoyance as he
uncovered the Colonel's war-worn uniform. He hesitated, looking towards
his uncle who seemed bewildered. "That's that rascal, Billy--it's a
mistake," exclaimed the Colonel.
"No, sir," shouted Billy, "Squire told me to take 'em. There's a sword
too. Squire said it wasn't any use now."
No one laughed; it was obviously one of Billy's blunders. John put the
worn uniform and the sword aside and threw a cover over them. It was an
unpleasant reminder of the Colonel's state of mind and disturbed the
little group at one side of the stage. John made haste to get away from
it.
"Last article for sale--it's large and must be bought covered up.


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