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Anonymous

"The Best American Humorous Short Stories"

Then Marann grew distant, and asked Sim the following question:
"You know where Mr. Pike's gone, Mr. Marchman?"
Now the fact was, and she knew it, that Marann Fluker had never
before, not since she was born, addressed that boy as _Mister_.
The visitor's face reddened and reddened.
"No," he faltered in answer; "no--no--_ma'am_, I should say. I--I
don't know where Mr. Pike's gone."
Then he looked around for his hat, discovered it in time, took it into
his hands, turned it around two or three times, then, bidding good-bye
without shaking hands, took himself off.
Mrs. Fluker liked all the Marchmans, and she was troubled somewhat
when she heard of the quickness and manner of Sim's departure; for he
had been fully expected by her to stay to dinner.
"Say he didn't even shake hands, Marann? What for? What you do to
him?"
"Not one blessed thing, ma; only he wanted to know why I wasn't
gladder to see him." Then Marann looked indignant.
"Say them words, Marann?"
"No, but he hinted 'em."
"What did you say then?"
"I just asked, a-meaning nothing in the wide world, ma--I asked him if
he knew where Mr.


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