"Next you know, both you an' Sarah Libbie will be under the sod,"
Willie had tauntingly called after the lagging swain, as he passed the
house one afternoon on his way from the village. "What on earth you're
waitin' for is mor'n I can see."
The discomfited coast guard hung his head sheepishly.
"It's all right for you to talk, Willie Spence," he replied over his
shoulder. "You ain't got the speakin' to do. It's I that's got to ask
her."
Then as he sped out of sight, he added as an afterthought:
"By the way, Bart an' Minnie Coffin have come to a split at last over
that 'ere dress. After gettin' it fixed, an' promisin' him 'twas fur
the last time, she's ripped it all up again 'cause she's seen some
picter in a book she liked better. Bart's that mad he's took his sea
chest in the wheelbarrow an' set out for his mother's. I met him goin'
just now."
"Bless my soul!" gasped Willie in consternation. "How far had he got?"
"He was about quarter way to the Junction," was the response. "He sung
out he was headed where he'd be sure of gettin' three meals a day, an'
where somebody'd pay some attention to him.
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