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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"Rudder Grange"


"'You wait here under this tree,' says he, 'an' I'll go an' ask 'em
if they'll take us to board for a while.'
"So I waits, an' he goes up to the gate, an' pretty soon he comes
out an' says, 'All right, they'll take us, an' they'll send a man
with a wheelbarrer to the station for our trunk.' So in we goes.
The man was a country-like lookin' man, an' his wife was a very
pleasant woman. The house wasn't furnished very fine, but we
didn't care for that, an' they gave us a big room that had rafters
instid of a ceilin', an' a big fire-place, an' that, I said, was
jus' exac'ly what we wanted. The room was almos' like a donjon
itself, which he said he reckoned had once been a kitchin, but I
told him that a earl hadn't nothin' to do with kitchins, an' that
this was a tapestry chamber, an' I'd tell him all about the strange
figgers on the embroidered hangin's, when the shadders begun to
fall.
"It rained a little that afternoon, an' we stayed in our room, an'
hung our clothes an' things about on nails an' hooks, an' made
believe they was armor an' ancient trophies an' portraits of a long
line of ancesters. I did most of the make-believin' but he agreed
to ev'rything. The man who kep' the house's wife brought us our
supper about dark, because she said she thought we might like to
have it together cozy, an' so we did, an' was glad enough of it;
an' after supper we sat before the fire-place, where we made-
believe the flames was a-roarin' an' cracklin' an' a-lightin' up
the bright places on the armor a-hangin' aroun', while the storm--
which we made-believe--was a-ragin' an' whirlin' outside.


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