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Daviess, Maria Thompson, 1872-1924

"Phyllis"


"Phyllis," he said, with his most wonderful eyes shining down into
mine, "that check is going to the doctor just as soon as your Father
gives it to you. I told you that Lovey's eyes would be more valuable
if saved by you--and--and I meant it."
I didn't have to say anything, and I couldn't--he understood! I just
clung!
"Young idiots, both of you," said Father; but he blew his nose
violently, and I knew from experience how the lump in his throat felt.
"Now take me in to see Dr. Byrd."
"Howdy," said Lovey, as Father shook hands with him and the toad at
the same time. "Did you get any more cholera? Did the medicine work?"
"Yes, the medicine worked--more ways than one," answered Father with a
pleased laugh. And he talked to Lovelace Peyton all the time about a
man who got blown up in a mine that he saw in Pennsylvania, so that he
made no objections while Uncle Pompey took out all his "live stock."
While the Idol and Roxanne and I did up the room, with his own hands
Father bathed Lovelace Peyton and put on his clean, patched little
night-clothes; and I saw one big tear, that came from the very bottom
of the big man's heart, I know, splash on the biggest patch, as he was
guiding the little groping hands into the armhole.


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