Both parlor and sitting-room opened on a narrow piazza on the front of the
house, Father Tyler not caring to waste space in a hall or passage.
Mandy Calline had flicked a bit of imaginary dust from the polished surface
of the table, had set a bit straighter, if that were possible, one or two
of the chairs, and turned up the lamp a trifle higher, when "Little Jim"
opened the door leading out on the piazza, and in tones of suppressed
excitement half whispered, "He's er-comin', Mandy Calline; Zeke's
er-comin'; he's nigh 'bout ter th' gate."
"Go 'long, Jim, 'n' shet up; ye allers knows more'n the law allows," said
his sister; but she glanced quickly and shyly out of the door.
Mr. Ezekiel White was just entering the gate. He was undoubtedly gotten up
at vast expense for the occasion. A suit of store clothes of a startling
plaid adorned his lanky figure, and a pair of new shoes cramped his feet in
the most approved style. A new felt hat rested lightly on his well-oiled
hair. But the crowning glory was a flaming red necktie which flowed in
blazing magnificence over his shirt front.
Jeff, the yard dog, barked in neighborly fashion, as though yelping a
greeting to a frequent visitor whom he recognized as a favored one.
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