For these dainty white hands with their pink nails and soft palms,
so wonderfully graceful over teapot or fan, could wield a broom or
even a dust-pan did necessity require. Ruth in a ball gown, all
frills and ruffles and lace, was a sight to charm the eye of any
man, but Ruth in calico and white apron, her beautiful hair piled
on top of her still more beautiful head; her skirts pinned up and
her dear little feet pattering about, was a sight not only for men
but for gods as well. Jack loved her in this costume, and so would
you had you known her. I myself, old and wrinkled as I am, have
never forgotten how I rapped at the wrong door one morning--the
kitchen door--and found her in that same costume, with her arms
bare to the elbows and covered with flour, where she had been
making a "sally lunn" for daddy. Nor can I forget her ringing
laugh as she saw the look of astonishment on my face, or my
delight when she ordered me inside and made me open the oven door
so that she could slide in the finished product without burning
her fingers.
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