"Well, now tell your ma I thank her for comin', and for them letters from
them precious childern. An' see here." Grandma leaned over and pulled out
the under drawer of the little stand. It wasn't like giving peppermints to
Joel Pepper, and it sent a pang through her at the remembrance, but
Peletiah had been good to read those letters.
"I'm a-goin' to give you these," she said, beginning to shake therefrom
into her hand three big, white peppermints and two red ones.
"No, I thank you, ma'am," said Peletiah stiffly, and standing quite still.
"Yes, you take 'em," said Grandma decidedly. "You've been real good to read
them letters. Here, Peletiah."
"No, I thank you, ma'am," said Peletiah again, not offering to stir. "Well,
I must be going," and he went slowly out of the kitchen, leaving Grandma
with the big peppermints in her hand.
That evening, after everything was quiet at the parsonage, the minister
called his wife into the study.
"We will look that letter over from Mrs. Fisher, now, my dear."
Mrs. Henderson sat down on the end of the well-worn sofa.
"Lie down, dear," he said, "and let me tuck a pillow under your head. You
are all tired out."
"Oh, husband, I am sure you are quite as tired as I am," and the color flew
into her cheeks like a girl. But he had his way.
"You better leave the door open"--as he went across the room to close
it--"Jerusha may call.
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