Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville
"W'y, set 'em under a hen, an' hatch 'em out."
"Sir," said Beth, "I strongly disapprove of such deceptions. It seems to
me that making a poor hen hatch out ducks, under the delusion that they
are chickens, is one of the most cruel and treacherous acts that
humanity can be guilty of. Imagine the poor thing's feelings when her
children take to water! I'm surprised you could suggest such a wicked
use for duck eggs."
McNutt wiggled his toes again, desperately.
"Can't use any sas'frass roots, can ye?"
"No, indeed; all we crave is the 'Lives of the Saints.'"
"Don't want to buy no land?"
"What have you got to sell?"
"Nuth'n, jest now. But ef ye'll buy I kin git 'most anything."
"Don't go to any trouble on our account, sir; we are quite content with
our splendid farm."
"Shoo! Thet ain't no good."
"Captain Wegg thought it was," answered Louise, quickly seizing this
opening. "Otherwise he would not have built so good a house upon it."
"The Cap'n were plumb crazy," declared the agent, emphatically. "He
didn't want ter farm when he come here; he jest wanted to hide."
The girls exchanged quick glances of intelligence.
"Why?"
"Why?" repeated McNutt. "Thet's a thing what's puzzled us fer years,
miss. Some thinks Wegg were a piret; some thinks he kidnaped thet pretty
wife o' his'n an' took her money; some thinks he tried to rob ol' Will
Thompson, an' Will killed him an' then went crazy hisself. There's all
sorts o' thinks goin' 'round; but who _knows_?"
"Don't you, Mr. McNutt?"
The agent was flattered by the question. As he had said, the Weggs had
formed the chief topic of conversation in Millville for years, and no
one had a more vivid interest in their history than Marshall McMahon
McNutt. He enjoyed gossiping about the Weggs almost as much as he did
selling books.
"I never thought I had no call to stick my nose inter other folkses
privit doin's," he said, after a few puffs at the corncob pipe. "But
they kain't hide much from Marsh McNutt, when he has his eyes open.
- Page:
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
There was once a king who was very powerful. He had great influence over the wild beasts and animals. Now the tortoise was looked upon as the wisest of all beasts and men. This king had a son named Ekpenyon, to whom he gave fifty young girls as wives, but the prince did not like any of them. The king was very angry at this, and made a law that if any man had a daughter who was finer than the prince's wives, and who found favour in his son's eyes, the girl herself and her father and mother should be killed.
© 2013-2019 FairyTales
Almost all texts on this website are from the Public Domain.