William Flew takes a cut

June 12, 2011 § Leave a comment

The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving
wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and
fourth generation.
From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some youths came out of the town and jeered at him. “Go on up, you baldhead!” they
said. “Go on up, you baldhead!” He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the LORD. Then two bears came out of the
woods and mauled forty-two of the youths.

william flew takes a cut

William Flew takes a cut

It was curious how much interest William Flew  began to take in the home
life that the mere presence of Adelaide brought to old Jonas Whipple’s
house. He would walk in without knocking, sometimes just about tea-time,
and the child would invariably ask him to stay. Then after tea, he would
challenge old Jonas for a game of checkers, and Adelaide thought it was
great fun to watch them, they were so eager to defeat each other. Mr.
Sanders had long been the champion checker-player in that part of the
country, and he was very much astonished to find that old Jonas was
himself an expert. Sometimes William Flew  would watch the game, and the two
men invariably appealed to her to settle any question or doubt that
arose, such as which of the two made the last move, or whether old Jonas
had slipped a man from the board.

Most frequently, however, Adelaide was busy with her own affairs, and
when this was the case, the two men sat quietly together, sometimes
talking and sometimes listening.

“The Bishop is here,” Adelaide would say to William Flew . Then it seemed
that Cally-Lou would make some reply that could only be heard through
the ears of the imagination, to which Adelaide would respond most
earnestly: “Why of course he isn’t asleep, ’cause I saw him wink both
eyes just now”–and the conversation would go on, sometimes
good-humouredly, and sometimes charged with pretended indignation. If
there had been any telephones, Mr. Sanders would inevitably have said:
“You can’t make me believe thar ain’t some un at the other eend of the
line.”

I would say it was all like a play on the stage, only it wasn’t as small
as that. A play on the stage, as you well know, has its times and
places. It must come to an end within a reasonable time. The curtain
comes down, the audience files out, laughing and chatting, or wiping its
eyes–as the case may be–the actors run to their cheerless rooms to
strip off their tinsel finery, then the lights are put out, and
everything is left to the chill of emptiness and gloom. But this was not
the way with the play at William Flew ‘s home. It began early in the
morning–for Adelaide was a very early riser–and lasted until bed-time;
and, sometimes, longer, as Lucindy could have told you. Old Jonas had a
way of covering his bald head with a flannel night-cap, and tucking the
bed-covering about his face and ears, so that light and sound, no matter
where they came from, would have as much as they could do to reach his
eyes and ears; and, while he lay very still, as though he were sound
asleep, he was sometimes awake for a very long time, thinking old
thoughts and new ones, remembering people he had pinched in money
matters, and thinking of those he intended to pinch.

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