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Rudd, Steele, 1868-1935

"On Our Selection"

We all rose--all except Joe. Joe
reached for the last scone.
A horseman dismounted at the slip-rails.
"Some stranger," Dad muttered, turning to re-seat himself.
"Why, it's--it's the minister!" Sal cried--"the minister that married
Kate!"
Dad nearly fell over. "Good God!" was all he said, and stared hopelessly
at Mother. The minister--for sure enough it was the Rev. Daniel
Macpherson--was coming in. There was commotion. Dave finished his tea at
a gulp, put on his hat, and left by the back-door. Dad would have
followed, but hesitated, and so was lost. Mother was restless--"on pins
and needles."
"And there ain't a bite to offer him," she cried, dancing hysterically
about the table--"not a bite; nor a plate, nor a knife, nor a fork to eat
it with!" There was humour in Mother at times. It came from the father's
side. He was a dentist.
Only Joe was unconcerned. He was employed on the last scone. He commenced
it slowly. He wished it to last till night. His mouth opened and received
it fondly. He buried his teeth in it and lingered lovingly over it.
Mother's eyes happened to rest on him. Her face brightened. She flew at
Joe and cried:
"Give me that scone!--put it back on the table this minute!"
Joe became concerned.


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