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Widdemer, Margaret, 1884-1978

"The Wishing-Ring Man"

I think we use a glass and a knife."
"Oh!" said Joy. "Well, I haven't the technique--would you?"
But Nora came in with the soup just then without having been rung
for, having evidently been hovering sympathetically near.
"Pardon me, Doctor, but the bell is connected up," she breathed. "I
hooked it up myself as soon as Mrs. Hewitt gave Miss Havenith the
housekeeping."
It had evidently been a sore point with Nora--and, if the truth were
told, with John, who had an orderly mind. Although he adored his
flyaway, irresponsible mother, it was in spite of her ways and not
because of them.
"Do you think you are apt to get excited and step on the bell?" he
asked Joy.
She shook her head.
"I like things the way they're planned," she confessed. "They go
along more easily."
"I suppose," he meditated aloud, "you might even put a man's collars
in the same place twice running."
"Where else?" demanded Joy, who was so thoughtful of such things
that she was even intrusted with certain duties of the sort for
Grandfather.
"Well, Mother hasn't repeated herself for twenty-eight years," said
John a little wistfully. "She says she doesn't intend to get in a
rut, nor let me."
Joy laughed aloud.
"It must take lots of spare time, hunting new spots!" she said. "I'm
afraid I'd think life was too short to take all that trouble."
"I'm coming to the conclusion that there's nothing you can't do," he said
irrelevantly.


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