"Are you terrible old?" asked Sue.
"I'm pretty old, yes, my dear," said Mrs. Golden. "But I don't mind
that. It's the stiffness and the rheumatism. It's hard for me to get
about, and the black pepper's on a high shelf, too. If my son Philip was
only here he'd reach it down for me."
"Where is Philip?" asked Sue.
"Oh, he's gone to the city on business. He hopes to get a little
legacy."
"What's a leg-legacy?" asked Bunny. "Is it something to sell in the
store?"
"Bless your heart, no!" laughed Mrs. Golden. "A legacy is money, or
property, or something like that which is left to you. If some of your
rich relations die they leave money in the bank, or a house and lot, and
it comes to you. That's a legacy."
"Did some of your rich relations die?" asked Sue.
"Well, an old man, who wasn't a very close relation, died," said the
storekeeper. "There was some talk that he might leave me something, and
Philip went to the city to see about it.
"But, dear, me! things are so uncertain in this world that I don't
believe I'll get anything.
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