Father Hullin died of the pilmonary; mar died next. Misc Somers brought
me up whar the tavern used to be. It ain't a stand no more. Uncle
Meshach owns it."
"Is it a nice place?"
"Now it ain't as nice as it use to be, Aunt Vesty"--the girl glided
easily over what Vesta thought might be a hard word--"sence the shews
don't stop thar no mour."
"The shoes? What is that?"
"The wax figgers and glass-blowers, and the strongis' man in the world.
Did you ever see him?"
Vesta said, "No, dear."
"I saw him," Rhoda said, with a compression of her mouth and a gleam of
her eyes. "He bruke a stone with his fist and Misc Somers kep the
stone, and what do you think it was?"
"Marble?"
"No'm; chork! He jest washed the chork over with a little shell or
varnish or something, and, of course, it bruke right easy; so he wasn't
the strongest man in the world at all, and if Misc Somers ever see him,
she'll tell him so."
"Is it a little or a large house, Rhoda?"
"Oh, it's a magnificins house, twice as big as this, with the roof bent
like an elefin's back, an' three windows in it--rale dormant windows,
that looks like three eyes outen a crab, and a gabil end three rows of
windows high, and four high chimneys. The rope-walker said it was fit to
be a rueyal palace. Then thar's the kitchen an' colonnade built on to
it. It's the biggest house, I reckon, about Sinepuxin. That
rope-walker's a mountin-bank.
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