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Wood, Eugene, 1860-1923

"Back Home"

" (Your right hand, Book, your right hand. Pity's sakes!
How many times have I got to tell you that? Chest up and forward,
shoulders back and down, and turn your toes out more.)
It is a little book, Gentle Reader, but please don't let that
prejudice you against it. The General Public, I know, likes to feel
heft in its hand when it buys a book, but I had hoped that you
were a peg or two above the General Public. That mythical being
goes on a reading spree about every so often, and it selects a book
which will probably last out the craving, a book which "it will be
impossible to lay down, after it is once begun, until it is
finished." (I quote from the standard book notice). A few hours later
the following dialogue ensues:

"Henry!"
"Yes, dear."
"Aren't you 'most done reading?"
"Just as soon as I finish this chapter." A sigh and a long wait.
"Henry!"
"Yes, dear."
"Did you lock the side-door?" No answer.
"Henry! Did you?"
"Did I what?"
"Did you lock the side-door?"
"In a minute now."
"Yes, but did you?"
"M-hm. I guess so."
"'Guess so!' Did you lock that side-door? They got in at Hilliard's
night before last and stole a bag of clothes-pins."
"M."
"Oh, put down that book, and go and lock the side-door. I'll not
get a wink of sleep this blessed night unless you do.


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