WhenMaryreadthisportionofthelettertoherUncleShadrachhisscornwasoutspoken。
“Gettired！“hescoffed。“JerryCliffordgettiredofbein’dunned！
DON’Ttalksofoolish！Why，hegetsfatonthatkindofthing；it’sthemainexcitementhehas，thatandspendin’acenttwiceadayfornewspapers。DidyoueverwatchJerrybuyapaper？No？Well，yougouptoEllis’ssomedaywhenthemornin’papersareputoutforsaleandwatchhim。He’lldriveuptothedoorwiththatoldhoopskirtofahorseofhis——that’swhatthecritterlookslike，oneofthemold-fashionedhoop-skirts；therewasnothin’tothembutframeworkandahollowinside，andthat’sallthereistothathorse——Well，Jerryhe’lldriveupandcomeintothepapercounter，hiseyesshinin’andhisnervesallkeyedupandonehandshoveddownintohisbritchespocket。He’llstandandlookoverthepapersonthecounter，readin’asmuchofeveryoneashecanfornothin’，andthenbyandbythathand’llcomeoutofhispocketwithacentinit。Thentheotherhand’llreachoverandgetholdofthepaperhe’scal’latin’tobuy，getagoodclovehitchontoit，andthenforaminutehe’llstandtherelookin’firstatthecentandthenatthepaperandrubbin’themoneybetweenhisfingerandthumb——he’sfiggerin’tohavealittleofthecoppersmellleftonhishandevenifhehastoletgoofthecoin，yousee——and——“
Marylaughed。
“UncleShad，“sheexclaimed，“whatridiculousnonsenseyoudotalk！“