It
probably would be down my back half the time anyway. It usually
was. As we neared the city I heard the farmer's wife tell him
that he must take me to my home. He said he would not do any
such a thing, but she said he must. She explained that she knew
me, and it would not be decent to put me down where they were
going, and leave me to walk home and carry that heavy jar. So
the farmer took me to our gate. I thanked him as politely as I
knew how, and kissed his wife and the fat baby in payment for
their kindness, for I was very grateful. I was so tired I
scarcely could set down the jar and straighten my cramped arms
when I had the opportunity. I had expected my family to be
delighted over my treasure, but they exhibited an astonishing
indifference, and were far more concerned over the state of my
blistered face. I would not hear of putting my Half-luna on the
basement screen as they suggested, but enthroned it in state on
the best lace curtains at a parlour window, covered the sill with
leaves and flowers, and went to bed happy.
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