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Cooke, Grace MacGowan, 1863-1944

"The Power and the Glory"

That's just plain old-fashioned laziness.
You git yo'self back thar and tend them frames, or I'll--"
"I cain't! I cain't see 'em to tend! I'm right blind in the eyes!"
wailed Deanie. "I wish Sis' Johnnie would come. I wish't she would!"
"Uh-huh," commented Bob Conley, who had strolled up in the old man's
wake. "Reckon Sis' Johnnie would run things to suit her an' you, Himes,
you can cuss me out good an' plenty, but I take notice you seem to have
trouble makin' your own family mind."
"You shut your head," growled Pap.
Reardon had added himself to the spectators.
"See here," the foreman argued, "if you say there's nothing the matter
with that gal, an' she carries on till we have to let her go home, she
goes for good. I'll take her frames away from her."
Pap felt that a formidable show of authority must be made.
"Git back thar!" he roared, advancing upon the child, raising the hand
that still held the wrench with which he had been working on the
machinery down stairs. "Git back thar, or I'll make you wish you had.
When I tell you to do a thing, don't you name Johnnie to me. Git
back thar!"
With a faint cry the child cowered away from him. It is unlikely he
would have struck her with the upraised tool he held. Perhaps he did not
intend a blow at all, but one or two small frame tenders paused at the
ends of their lanes to watch the scene with avid eyes, to extract the
last thrill from the sensation that was being kindly brought into the
midst of their monotonous toilsome hours; and Lissy, who was creeping up
anxiously, yet keeping out of the range of Himes's eye, crouched as
though the hammer had been raised over her own head.


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