Country Neighbors

								

She went hurrying away across the hall and into the sitting-room, and
Cap'n Oliver, his head bent a little, stroked his chin and watched her.
Then he followed, making his way through the friendly crowd in hall and
sitting-room, and mounted the dry-goods box prepared for the auctioneer.
He looked about him and smiled a little, partly because people were
gazing at him sympathetically, and partly over his own embarrassing
plight. For he was a shy man. Nobody knew it but himself, and he was
afraid that after to-day everybody would know.
"Well, neighbors," said he, "I feel as if I was runnin' for President or
hog-reeve or somethin', or goin' to speak in meetin'. But I ain't. I'm
goin' to auction off Letty Lamson's things, an' I ain't been to an
auction myself sence I was seventeen an' set on the fence an' chewed gum
an' played 'twas tobacker while old Dan'el Cummings's farm was auctioned
off down to the last stick o' timber. Well, I don't know 's I could say
how 'twas done, nor how it's commonly done now, but I can take a try at
it. Now, here's some books Miss Letty's brought down out o' the attic. I
don't know what they be, but they look to me as if they might ha' come
out of her gran'ther's lib'ry--old Parson Lamson, ye know."
"Yes," said Miss Letty, from the low rocking-chair a neighbor had
insisted on giving up to her, "they did. Many's the time I've watched
him porin' over 'em winter nights with two candles."
"There, you see! they're Parson Lamson's books. Many a good word he got
out of 'em for his sermons, I'll bet ye a dollar. Why, ye recollect how
much Parson Lamson done for this town, how he got up sewin'-circles in
war-time an' set everybody to scrapin' lint, an' climbed out of his bed
after he couldn't hardly stand with rheumatism to say good-by to the
boys when they enlisted, an' how he wrote to 'em an' prayed for
'em--why, them books are wuth their weight in gold. How much am I
offered for Parson Lamson's books? A dollar-seventy--Why, bless you, Tim
Fry, there ain't a book there but's wuth a dollar-seventy taken by
itself! Why, I'll start it myself at thirteen--"
"Oh, don't you do it, Cap'n, don't you do it!" called Miss Letty
piercingly. "I don't want 'em to bid on gran'ther's books. I want them
books myself, if I have to work my fingers to the bone."
The cap'n took out his beautiful colored handkerchief with Joseph and
his brethren on it, and wiped his face.
"Gone!" said he, "to Miss Letty Lamson. Now, ladies an' gentlemen,
here's a little chair. I know that chair, an' so do you. It's the chair
little Letty Lamson used to set in when she wa'n't more'n three year
old, an' her mother used to keep her out under the sweet-bough tree in
that little rocker whilst she was washin' or churnin'! What?"
He paused, for Miss Letty had waved a frantic hand. The tears were
running down her cheeks. The others had before them the picture of
little Letty Lamson swaying and singing to herself, but she saw the