While Lucinda
was leaning far out and attempting to cause said blinds to catch on the
hooks, which habitually held them back against the side of the house, her
mistress addressed her with a suddeness which showed that she had awakened
with her wits surprisingly well in hand.
"Where's Joshua? Is he got back from Arethusa? Answer me, Lucinda."
Lucinda drew herself in through the open window with an alacrity
remarkable for one of her years.
"Yes, he's back," she yelled.
Aunt Mary looked at her with a sort of incensed patience.
"Well, what's he doin'? If he's back, where is he? Lucinda, if you knew
how hard it is for me to keep quiet you'd answer when I asked things. Why
in Heaven's name don't you say suthin'? Anythin'? Anythin' but nothin',
that is."
"He's mowin'," Lucinda shrieked.
"Sewin'!" exclaimed Aunt Mary. "What's he sewin'? Where's he sewin'? Have
you stopped doin' his darnin'?"
Lucinda gathered breath by compressing her sides with her hands, and then
replied, directing her voice right into the ear-trumpet:
"He's mowin' the back lawn."
Aunt Mary winced and shivered.
"My heavens, Lucinda!" she exclaimed, sharply. "I wish't there was a
school to teach outsiders the use of an ear-trumpet. They can't seem to
hit the medium between either mumblin' or splittin' one's ear drums."
Lucinda was too much out of breath from her effort to attempt any audible
penitence. Her mistress continued:
"Well, you find him wherever he is, and tell him to harness up the buggy
and go and get Mr.
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