Euphemia had the softest snap, though. She did the housework,
planted the garden, raised chickens, fed the hogs, and scrubbed the
floors. Have I got the catalogue right, Phemey?"

Euphemia blinks twice, kind of reminiscent; but nothin' in the shape of
words gets through the gum.

"She has such an emotional nature!" says Maizie. "Uncle Hen was like that
too. But let's not linger over him. He's gone. The last thing he did was
to let go of a dollar fifty in cash that I held him up for so Phemey and
I could go into Duluth and see a show. The end came early next day, and
whether it was from shock or enlargement of the heart, no one will ever
know.

"It was an awful blow to us all. We went around in a daze for nearly a
week, hardly daring to believe that it could be so. Jens broke the spell
for us. One morning I caught him helping himself to a cigar out of the
two-fer box. 'Why not?' says he. Next Phemey walks in, swipes a package
of wintergreen gum, and feeds it all in at once. She says, 'Why not?'
too. Then I woke up. 'You're right,' says I. 'Enjoy yourself. It's time.'
Next I hints to her that there are bigger and brighter spots on this
earth than Dobie, and asks her what she says to selling the Emporium and
hunting them up. 'I don't care,' says she, and that was a good deal of a
speech for her to make. 'Do you leave it to me?' says I. 'Uh-huh,' says
she. 'We-e-e-ough!' says I," and with that Maizie lets out one of them
backwoods college cries that brings Tidson up on his toes.

"I take it," says I, "that you did."

"Did I?" says she. "Inside of three days I'd hustled up four different
parties that wanted to invest in a going concern, and before the week was
over I'd buncoed one of 'em out of nine thousand in cash. Most of it's in
a certified check, sewed inside of Phemey, and that's why we walked all
the way up here in the rain. Do you suppose you could take me to some
bank to-morrow where I could leave that and get a handful of green bills
on account? Is that asking too much?"

"Considering the way you've brushed up my memory of Sport Blickens," says
I, "it's real modest. Couldn't you think of something else?"

"If that had come from Mrs. McCabe," says she, eyin' Sadie kind of
longin', "I reckon I could."

"Why," says Sadie, "I should be delighted."

"You wouldn't go so far as to lead two such freaks as us around to the
stores and help us pick out some New York clothes, would you?" says she.

"My dear girl!"