They were very clannish people, fond of their own kin to
the last degree. They came from Michigan, and were of the old colony
stock, regular Yankee-Doodle folks, the older ones and many of the
younger ones still using New England idioms and quaint phrases that
came long ago from the East--yes, from the holts of old England's
Suffolk perhaps. You could not persuade one of them to call jelly
anything but "jell" or a repast anything but a "meal of victuals," and
they said "dooty" and "roomor" and "noos" and "clawg," and sometimes
would pop out "his'n" and "her'n." Several of the Stenes had been in
business thirty years in metropolitan Chicago, yet they spoke in the
twang of a Yankee hill-country. The women of the family were famous
housekeepers--too neat to keep a cat lest there might be a cat hair on
the carpet, and never liking visitors unless there was a dreadful note
of preparation, and then they received grandly. To show Lydia their
good-will, they gave her profuse wedding-presents and a splendid
trousseau. On my side I bought a neat cottage, paying cash down--all
the money I had. It was one of a square of cottages principally
occupied by young married people having plenty of children, and a
joyous crew they were.
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