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Michael Malone - Weebly

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of you knows what you're doing; haven't managed to<br />

grow so much as a pokeweed in the past fifty years."<br />

"No one's tried to grow pokeweed," warbled his<br />

wife across the emerald lawn. "Don't be such a dog in<br />

the manger."<br />

"I got to go now." Bill Deeds eased himself to his<br />

feet. "You go ahead and ruin it if you got to."<br />

"Go where?" yelled Bredforet. "I may need you to<br />

drive me to the Club."<br />

"I can't help that," Deeds replied. "You doan wants<br />

to go to no club nohow; just curious. Scared you miss<br />

sumpthin'." He took a huge handkerchief from his pants<br />

pocket to wipe his hands. "Got to go pick up my<br />

granddaughter. She's showed up on the train on<br />

vacation from her hospital to come see me."<br />

Recklessly Mary clipped an armful of late jonquils<br />

by the clump.<br />

"Ruth? But that's wonderful! Why didn't you warn<br />

me? All the way from Atlanta! Oh, I'll love seeing Ruth<br />

again. Now you give her these.<br />

I always wished someone would hand me flowers<br />

when I stepped out of a railway car. But I married

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