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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"The Boss of Little Arcady"

There was Peavey in it. And
she smiled. I had seen her smile before, but never before had she seen
me at those times. That she should now smile for and at me seemed to be
a circumstance little short of epoch-making.
I cannot affirm that there was even one moment of that curiously short
afternoon when she became wholly and frankly a Peavey. But more than
once did this felicity seem to impend, and I suspected that she might
even have been more graciously endowed than with a mere Peavey capacity
in general. I believed that if she chose, she might almost become a Miss
Caroline Peavey. This occurred to me when she said:--
"I only brought you along for your dog."
It was, of course, quite like a Lansdale to do that; but much liker a
Peavey to tell it, with that brief poise of the opened eyes upon one's
own.
"Don't hold it against Jim," I pleaded. "It's my fault. I'm obliged to
be most careful about his associates. I've brought him up on a system."
"Indeed? It would be interesting to know why you object--" she bridled
with a challenge almost Miss Caroline in its flippancy.
"Well, for one thing, I have to make sure that he doesn't become
worldly. Lots of good dogs are spoiled that way.


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