I generally read aloud to people
as I go along, and they're often good for a free meal. It's amazing
how little most of the country folk know about books, and how
pleased they are to hear good stuff. Down in Lancaster County,
Pennsylvania...."
"Well, how about the horse?" I said hastily, seeing him about to
embark on an anecdote. It wasn't far short of eleven o'clock, and I
was anxious to get started.
"It might be well to take along some oats. My supply's about
exhausted."
I filled a sack with oats in the stable and Mr. Mifflin showed me
where to hang it under the van. Then in the kitchen I loaded a big
basket with provisions for an emergency: a dozen eggs, a jar of
sliced bacon, butter, cheese, condensed milk, tea, biscuits, jam,
and two loaves of bread. These Mr. Mifflin stowed inside the van,
Mrs. McNally watching in amazement.
"I tank this bane a queer picnic!" she said. "Which way are you
going? Mr. McGill, is he coming after you?"
"No," I insisted, "he's not coming. I'm going off on a holiday. You
get dinner for him and he won't worry about anything until after
that.
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