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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"Rudder Grange"

I've only got
one passenger, an' he's on top, a-holdin' the horses. He aint in
any hurry, I know, an' I'm ahead o' time."
In less than twenty minutes we had packed our trunk, locked up the
house, and were in the stage, and, as we drove away, we cast a last
admiring look at Euphemia's sign, slowly swinging in the wind. I
would much like to know if it is swinging there yet. I feel
certain there has been no lack of custom.
We stopped at Mrs. Carson's, paid her what we owed her, and engaged
her to go up to the tavern and put things in order. She was very
sorry we were going, but hoped we would come back again some other
summer. We said that it was quite possible that we might do so;
but that, next time, we did not think we would try to have a tavern
of our own.

CHAPTER XIX.
THE BABY AT RUDDER GRANGE.

For some reason, not altogether understood by me, there seemed to
be a continued series of new developments at our home. I had
supposed, when the events spoken of in the last chapter had settled
down to their proper places in our little history, that our life
would flow on in an even, commonplace way, with few or no incidents
worthy of being recorded. But this did not prove to be the case.
After a time, the uniformity and quiet of our existence was
considerably disturbed.
This disturbance was caused by a baby, not a rude, imperious baby,
but a child who was generally of a quiet and orderly turn of mind.
But it disarranged all our plans; all our habits; all the ordinary
disposition of things.


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