" He returned in
an hour's time and soon after entering the house, handed a letter to my
aunt saying, "read that and see what you think of it." Seating herself
and adjusting her glasses, she unfolded the letter, and perused it
carefully; but any one acquainted with her would at once have been
aware, by the expression of her countenance, as she read, that the
communication, whatever it was, was not of an agreeable nature. The
letter was from a cousin residing in the State of Massachusetts whom
they had not seen for many years, but who used in his youthful days to
be a frequent visitor. Indeed it would seem, by all accounts, that he
was fonder of visiting than of any regular employment. This cousin,
Silas Stinson, had grown up to manhood with no fixed purpose in life. As
a boy he was quick at learning, and obtained a fair education, which, as
he grew older, he was at much pains to display by using very high-flown
language, which often bordered upon the flowery and sublime. I believe
in their younger days Aunt Lucinda used to allow "it fairly turned her
stomach to hear the fellow talk.
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