three cent piece in place of a dime,' I
says, ''n' up to the first washin' o' them stockin's I never so much
's breathed a suspicion of your mebbe dividin' that seven cents with
him. But I ain't so sure now,' I says, ''n' I ain't prepared to say
what I 'll think from now on,' 'n' then I walked off, leavin' him good
'n' meek, I c'n assure you; 'n' the come-out o' that little game is as
my trade, which ranged fr'm ten to fifty cents a week 'n' _always_
cash, is lost to him forever hereafter."

Mrs. Lathrop was fairly choking with impatience.

"'N' your cousin--" she interjected quickly, as Susan halted for a
slight rest.

"Yes," said that lady, with a certain chilling air of having up to now
suffered from inexcusable neglect on the part of her friend, "I was
thinkin' 's it was about time 't you begin to show _some_ interest in
what I come over to tell you--'n' me here for the best part o' a good
half-hour already. Well, 'n' my cousin! She come out o' a letter, Mrs.
Lathrop, a old torn letter 's you or any other ordinary person would
probably 'a' throwed away without even readin'. But I was never one to
do things slipshod, 'n' I read every scrap 's I 've got time to piece
together, so it was nothin' but natural 's I sh'd quit work 's soon 's
I see Cousin Marion's letter 'n' sit right down to read it. 'N' it's
good as I did too, for 'f I 'd been careless 'n' burned my rubbish
unread, Cousin Marion 'd certainly 'a' burnt with the other scraps,
'n' as a consequence I'd 'a' missed about the happiest minutes 's I
've knowed since father died. You c'n believe me or not, jus' 's you
please, Mrs. Lathrop, but I cried over that letter; 'n' if some was
the dust in my nose, the rest was real affection, for, Lord knows,
when you 're scratchin' out mice 'n' cobwebs you ain't lookin' to find
a relation none. But anyhow, there she was, 'n' if she ain't died in
the mean time--f'r the letter was wrote over fifty years ago--I may
know suthin' o' family life yet. It was the beautifullest letter 't I
ever read. You c'd n't imagine nothin' more beautiful. I'm afraid 's
mebbe mother 'n' me misjudged father, owin' to the everlastin' up 'n'
down stairs, 'n' mother used to say right out 't it was a neck to neck
tie 's to which he stuck closest to, his bed or his money. But he
wasn't always like that, 'n' this letter proves it, for Heaven knows
what he must 'a' give Cousin Marion to 'a' ever brought her to write
him such words 's them. Not to de