I sent
for the packer the moment they were out of the house, and had the things
boxed and away before they could change their minds. When I showed
J---- the money, he said I was wasting my time writing, that he was sure
I had a larger destiny.
Speaking of having furniture boxed carries me back to the time when we
lived in Pennsylvania and I bought many things of a pleasant old rascal
who just managed to keep out of jail. One time he showed me a lovely old
table of that ruddy glowing mahogany that adds so much to a room. I said
I would take it, but told him not to send it home till afternoon. I
wanted time to break it to J---- after a good luncheon. J---- was very
amiable and approving, and urged me to have it sent up, so I went down
to the shop to see about it. To my dismay I found it neatly crated and
just being loaded into a wagon. I called frantically to my rascally
friend, who tried to slip out of the back door unobserved, but in vain.
I fixed him with an accusing eye.
"What are you doing with my table?" I demanded.
"Did you really want it?" he queried.
"Of course I want it. Didn't I say I'd take it?" I was annoyed.
"Oh, well," to his men, "take it off, boys.
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