This was said very coaxingly.
"Oh, pray don't trouble yourself. What next?" I was anxious to see
how far her impudence would go, and determined to affront her if
possible.
"I want you to lend me a gown, and a pair of stockings. I have to go
to Oswego to see my husband's sister, and I'd like to look decent."
"Mrs. Fye, I never lend my clothes to any one. If I lent them to
you, I should never wear them again."
"So much the better for me," (with a knowing grin). "I guess if you
won't lend me the gown, you will let me have some black slack to
quilt a stuff petticoat, a quarter of a pound of tea and some sugar;
and I will bring them back as soon as I can."
"I wonder when that will be. You owe me so many things that it will
cost you more than you imagine to repay me."
"Sure you're not going to mention what's past, I can't owe you much.
But I will let you off the tea and the sugar, if you will lend me a
five-dollar bill." This was too much for my patience longer to
endure, and I answered sharply -
"Mrs. Fye, it surprises me that such proud people as you Americans
should condescend to the meanness of borrowing from those whom you
affect to despise.
