"Now, Peter, you surely ain't a-going up to the court-house to see
Andrew Jackson," she said in sudden alarm.
"No, no, not now," said Peter, hurriedly. "I am riding fast to keep an
appointment to preach on the other side of the river."
"But you can stop long enough to eat breakfast. I lay you haven't had a
bite this blessed day."
Peter shook his head, gathering up the reins.
"And ten to one that you haven't got a cent of money!" Miss Penelope
accused him.
Peter's grim young face relaxed in a faint smile. He put his hand in his
pocket and drew out two small pieces of silver.
"Ah, ha, I knew it!" exulted Miss Penelope. "Now do wait just one
minute till I run in the house and get you some money."
"No, no, there isn't time. I'll miss my appointment to preach. I will
get along somehow. Thank you--good-by."
Miss Penelope, reaching up, seized the bridle-reins and held on by main
force with one hand while she rummaged in her out pocket with the other.
"There!--here are three bits--every cent I've got with me," she said
indignantly, shoving it in his hand.
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