quot;Evening,quot; said t of breath.
Miss Amelia and ting nor spoke. t him.
quot;I am ing for Miss Amelia Evans.quot;
Miss Amelia pus;;
quot;Because I am kin to ; the hunchback said.
tumpy MacP Miss Amelia.
quot;ts me,quot; s;;
quot;Because --quot; t as t to cry. ed tcase on ttom step, but did not take ;My mot Cy years ago oday tell me t ;
Miss Amelia listened urned slige ives, and s-aunt aunt y miles a t get on so ried very ime to time, to some kind of far-fetcion ely no success.
t into a long rigmarole, mentioning names and places t o teners on to o do . quot;So Fanny and Marters. And I am t ; doo unfasten case. y sparrorembling. t looked like parts out of a se out an old pograp;ture of my moter.quot;
Miss Amelia did not speak. So side, and you could tell from s. Stumpy MacPook tograp out to. It ure of ttle c tiny migure in anyones album.
Stumpy MacP back . quot;; he asked.
tain. quot;I raveling.quot;
Still Miss Amelia did not speak. S stood leaning against t togetly ttom step and disappeared. uation ouc. t to and cy and run of toood tom step; o feel . Maybe a miserable t o be a stranger in tocase full of junk, and claiming kin any rate doeps and suddenly began to cry.
It a common to o tore at midnig doo.
At last one of t;Ill be damned if a regular Morris Finestein.quot;
Everyone nodded and agreed, for t is an expression ain special meaning. But t knoalking about. Morris Finestein le Jee ligy o Society City. But since t, ein.
quot;ell, ed,quot; said Stumpy MacP;t;
Miss Amelia crossed trides. S doeps and stood looking tfully at tranger. Gingerly, oucill , but er no and till s, dear lig ting colder. t a bottle from and after polisop to to drink. Miss Amelia could seldom be persuaded to sell , and for o give so muc unknown.
quot;Drink,quot; s;It ;
topped crying, neatly licked tears from around old. ook a slo. ttle they had paid for.
quot;It is smoot; Stumpy MacP;Miss Amelia, I o fail.quot;
t evening (ttles of it) is important. Ot for ty of its o is clean and songue, but once do gloer is not all. It is kno if a message is ten of paper t. But if t to tters turn bro t t iced, ts t only of t drink some on a Sunday and come across a mars y cup, and in come a sness keen as pain. A ime t January sky, and a deep frig op . Suc truthere.