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Hurst, Fannie, 1889-1968

"Humoresque A Laugh on Life with a Tear Behind It"


"Now cut it, Peachy, I said, and cut it quick."
She stood palpitating beside the window, her eyes flashing to his face
and fastening there.
"God! I--I wanna go."
"Where?"
Her glance flashed past him out of the window and across the patch of
rear lawn. A street-car bobbed across the country; she followed it with
eager eyes.
"I wanna go."
He advanced, conciliatory. "Aw, now, Peachy, a row just the day before
we are married. You don't want to start out making me train you just
like you was a little kid. If you was a little girl I could beat your
little ways out of you, but I wanna be on the level with you and show
you how nice I can be. All the things I'm going to give you, all--"
"Quit, you! I wanna go! I wanna go!"
"You can go to hell, for my part. I'm going to get a steak inside of me
before we budge. Quit your fooling. See, you nearly got me sore there.
Come, the car won't be back for us until six. Come, Peachy, come."
She was past him and panting down the stairs, out across the patch of
rear lawn, and toward the bobbing street-car, the streamer of ribbon at
her throat flying backward over her shoulder.
In the bargain basement of the Titanic Store the first day of the spring
opening dragged to its close.


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