Part 3 (2/2)

”Well, well! n.o.body can't tell 'bout women an' hens. It seems lak n.o.body don't speak up an' testify how much good they is in some sisters 'til they is dead an' gone. Same way with hens! Same way with hens! Is yo' maw gwinter bile it or bake it?”

”Sh'ain't 'cided. If'n yer bile it yer gits soup extry an' if'n yer bake it yer gits stuffin' an' graby.”

I was thankful for the little training I had in mathematics when it was up to me to convert eggs into flour. Some problem! I put in a little extra flour to make sure and the child skipped off.

At this juncture the Tucker twins, Mary Flannagan, and a troop of young men from Maxton blew in. I was secretly relieved that Miss Wilc.o.x was not of the party. Not that I minded her seeing me keep store, but I had a feeling she might be a little scornful of Annie Pore.

”Where is Annie?” cried Dum.

”We are nearly dead to see her,” declared Dee.

”Gone driving with Sleepy. I am keeping store in her absence. His Lord High Muck-a-Muck has embarked for Richmond.”

”What fun! What fun! We bid to help!”

”Maybe only one had better help, as purchasers coming in might be overcome by too many clerks,” I laughed.

”You are right! Dee must be the one because she is so tactful,” said Dum magnanimously.

So Dee took off her hat and got behind the candy and ginger ale side of the counter, and then such a buying and selling ensued as that country store had never witnessed.

Of course everybody treated everybody else and then had to be treated in turn. I stayed on the dry-goods side, and while I was not doing such a thriving business as Dee, still I had my hands full. The farmer's wife had met some acquaintances and sent them to Pore's to see the new clerk who could tell them so much about Richmond styles. I had to draw a gallon of kerosene for one customer, but Wink insisted upon doing this for me. I did not want him to one little bit. If I was to be storekeeper, I preferred being one, not just playing at it.

”I think you are wonderful, Page, to do this for Annie,” he whispered to me as we made our way to the coal oil barrel.

”Nonsense! What is wonderful about it?”

”You are always kind to everybody but me.”

”Do you want me to keep store for you?”

”No, I want you to keep house for me,” he muttered.

”But I did not know you had a house,” I teased.

He pumped vigorously at the coal oil.

”I intend to have one some day.”

”A grand one, surely, if you expect to have a housekeeper!”

”Page, you know what I mean!” He looked longingly into my eyes that I knew were full of mischievous twinkles.

”All I know is, you have wasted about a quart of kerosene.”

The floor was flooded. It is a difficult thing to pump coal oil and make love at the same time. Poor Wink had done both of his jobs badly. He looked aghast at the havoc he had caused.

”I am a bungling fool!” he cried.

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