ppy and proud to have people speak this way of their
grandfather.
"He warn't a man who didn't make enemies," ruminated the mail-carrier.
"He was too strong a man not to be well hated in certain quarters. He
warn't pussy-footed. What he meant he said out square and straight, an'
when he put his foot down he put it down emphatic. Yes, sir!
"But he had a sight more friends than enemies when he died. And lots o'
folks that thought they hated Dr. Polly could look back--when he was dead
and gone--an' see how he'd done 'em many a kind turn unbeknownst to 'em
at the time.
"Why," rambled on the mail-carrier, "I was talkin' to Jud Spink in Birch's
store only las' night. Jud ain't been 'round here for some time before,
an' suthin' started talk about the old doctor. Jud, of course, sailed
inter him."
"Why?" asked 'Phemie, trying to appear interested, while Lyddy swiftly
read her letter.
"Oh, I reckon you two gals--bein' only granddaughters of the old
doctor--never heard much about Jud Spink--Lemuel Judson Spink he calls
hisself now, an' puts a 'professor' in front of his name, too."
"Is he a professor?" asked 'Phemie.
"I dunno. He's been a good many things. Injun doctor--actor--medicine
show fakir--patent medicine pedlar; and now he owns 'Diamond Grits'--the
greatest food on airth, _he_ claims, an' I tell him it's great all right,
for man _an'_ beast!" and the mail-carrier went off into a spasm of
laughter over his own joke.
"Diamond Grits is a breakfast food," chuckled 'Phemie. "Do you s'pose
horses would eat it, too?"
"Mine will," said the mail-carrier. "Jud sent me a case of Grits and I
fed most of it to this critter. Sassige an' buckwheats satisfy me better
of a mornin', an' I dunno as this hoss has re'lly been in as good shape
since I give it the Grits.
"Wa-al, Jud's as rich as cream naow; but the old doctor took him as a boy
out o' the poorhouse."
"And yet you say he talks against grandfather?" asked 'Phemie, rather
curious.
"Ain't it just like folks?" pursued the man, shaking his head. "Yes, sir!
Dr. Polly took Jud Spink inter his fam'bly and might have made suthin' of
him; but Jud ran away with a medicine show----"
"He's made a rich man of himself, you say?" questioned 'Phemie.
"Ya-as," admitted the mail-carrier. "But everybody respected the old
doctor, an' nobody respects Jud Spink--they respect his money.
"Las' night Jud says the old doctor was as close as a clam with the
lockjaw, an' ne
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