"Why, that's right in my line, too! I've been sightin' timber all along
here, and that's how I dropped in on yer mar." Then, seeing a look of
eagerness light up the faces of Bob and Eunice, he was encouraged to
make the most of his opportunity. "Why, ma'am," he went on, cheerfully,
"I reckon you're holdin' that wood at a pretty stiff figger, now."
"Why?" asked Mrs. Delatour, simply.
Mr. Bowers delivered a wink at Bob and Eunice, who were still watching
him with anxiety. "Well, not on account of the actool timber, for the
best of it ain't sound," he said, "but on account of its bein' famous!
Everybody that reads that pow'ful pretty poem about it in the 'Excelsior
Magazine' wants to see it. Why, it would pay the Green Springs
hotel-keeper to buy it up for his customers. But I s'pose you reckon to
keep it--along with the poetess--in your famerly?"
Although Mr. Bowers long considered this speech as the happiest and most
brilliant effort of his life, its immediate effect was not, perhaps,
all that could be desired.
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