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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Mr. Bingle"

Bingle drew near. Once he heard Marie Louise say
in anger to Wilberforce that she'd bet daddy would keep her to the
last because she was getting big enough to wash dishes and make beds!
The poor man was beginning to lose faith, not in human nature alone,
but in himself. He grimly remarked to Melissa one day that "it isn't
safe to count chickens even after they are hatched, especially when
your eyes are smarting. I thought I knew more than God, Melissa, and
if there was a bramble bush handy I'd jump into it in the hope that I
might scratch my eyes back in again, as the saying goes."
"Well, anyhow, Mr. Bingle," Melissa replied, impressed by this
confession of failure, "as soon as the kids have left we'll have Mrs.
Bingle back again, and that's something to look forward to, sir. We'll
go back to the old way of living, which was the best, after all,
wasn't it? Just you and me and Mrs. Bingle."
Mr. Bingle hesitated for a moment. "When you and Diggs are married,
Melissa, don't make the mistake of adopting a child."
"We won't, sir," said Melissa confidently.


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