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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Corporal Cameron of the North West Mounted Police; a tale of the Macleod trail"

In vain Cameron tried to put her at her ease. She simply sat
and stared, now at the walls, now at the floor, refusing for a time to
utter more than monosyllables, punctuated with giggles.
"I want to thank you for the eggs and cream. They are fine," said
Cameron heartily.
"Oh, pshaw, that's nothin'! Lots more where they come from," replied
Mandy with a giggle.
"But it's a long way for you to drive; and in the busy time too."
"Oh, we had to come in anyway for things," replied Mandy, making light
of her service.
"You are all well?"
"Oh, pretty middlin'. Ma ain't right smart. She's too much to do, and
that's the truth."
"And the boys?" Cameron hesitated to be more specific.
"Oh, there's nothin' eatin' them. I don't bother with them much." Mandy
was desperately twisting her white cotton gloves.
At this point the nurse, with a final warning to the patient not to talk
too much and not to excite himself, left the room. In a moment Mandy's
whole manner changed.
"Say!" she cried in a hurried voice; "Perkins is left."
"Left?"
"I couldn't jist stand him after--after--that night. Dad wanted him to
stay, but I couldn't jist stand him, and so he quit."
"Quit?"
"I jist hate him since--since--that night. When I think of what he done
I could kill him. My, I was glad to see him lyin' there in the dust!"
Mandy's words came hot and fast.


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