"And she is such fun, Miss Felicia" (Mrs. Hicks was under
discussion), called out Jack, realizing that he had, perhaps--
although unconsciously--failed to include his hostess in his
coterie of listeners. "You should see her caps, and the
magnificent airs she puts on when we come down late to breakfast
on Sunday mornings."
"And tell them about the potatoes," interrupted Ruth.
"Oh, that was disgraceful, but it really could not be helped--we
had greasy fried potatoes until we could not stand them another
day, and Bolton found them in the kitchen late one night ready for
the skillet the next morning, and filled them with tooth powder,
and that ended it."
"I'd have set you fellows out on the sidewalk if I'd been Mrs.
Hicks," laughed Morris. "I know that old lady--I used to stop with
her myself when I was building the town hall--and she's good as
gold. And now tell me how MacFarlane is getting on--building a
railroad, isn't he? He told me about it, but I forget."
"No," replied Jack, his face growing suddenly serious as he turned
toward the speaker; "the company is building the road.
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