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Allen, James Lane, 1849-1925

"The Mettle of the Pasture"

Still, I wonder whether our ancestors may not
possibly be offended that we say so little about them!"
She led him up and down halls and from floor to floor.
"Of course you know this room--the nursery. Here is where you
began to be a bad boy; and you began before you can remember. Did
you never see these things before? They were your first
soldiers--I have left them to Dent. And here are some of Dent's
things that I have left to you. For one thing, his castanets. His
father and I never knew why he cried for castanets. He said that
Dent by all the laws of spiritual inheritance from his side should
be wanting the timbrel and harp--Biblical influence, you
understand; but that my influence interfered and turned timbrel and
harp into castanets. Do you remember the day when you ran away
with Dent and took him to a prize fight? After that you wanted
boxing-gloves, and Dent was crazy for a sponge. You fought him,
and he sponged you. Here is the sponge; I do not know where the
gloves are. And here are some things that belong to both of you;
they are mine; they go with me." She laid her hand on a little box
wrapped and tied, then quickly shut the closet.
In a room especially fragrant with lavender she opened a press in
the wall and turned her face away from him for a moment.
"This is my bridal dress. This was my bridal veil; it has been the
bridal veil of girls in my family for a good many generations.
These were my slippers; you see I had a large foot; but it was well
shaped--it was a woman's foot.


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