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Letters from Home

           You’dbetternothaveanythingtosaytoanyyoungmanwhoisn’tfromtheIsland.

           “Iforgottotellyouwhathappenedthedaytheministercalledhere.ItwasthefunniestthingIeversaw.IsaidtoMarilla,‘IfAnnehadbeenherewouldn’tshehavehadalaugh?’EvenMarillalaughed.Youknowhe’saveryshort,fatlittlemanwithbowlegs.Well,thatoldpigofMr.Harrison’sthebig,tallonehadwanderedoverherethatdayagainandbrokeintotheyard,anditgotintothebackporch,unbeknownstous,anditwastherewhentheministerappearedinthedoorway.Itmadeonewildbolttogetout,buttherewasnowheretobolttoexceptbetweenthembowlegs.Sothereitwent,and,beingasitwassobigandtheministersolittle,ittookhimcleanoffhisfeetandcarriedhimaway.Hishatwentonewayandhiscaneanother,justasMarillaandIgottothedoor.I’llneverforgetthelookofhim.Andthatpoorpigwasnearscaredtodeath.I’llneverbeabletoreadthataccountintheBibleoftheswinethatrushedmadlydownthesteepplaceintotheseawithoutseeingMr.Harrison’spigcareeringdownthehillwiththatminister.IguessthepigthoughthehadtheOldBoyonhisbackinsteadofinsideofhim.Iwasthankfulthetwinsweren’tabout.Itwouldn’thavebeentherightthingforthemtohaveseenaministerinsuchanundignifiedpredicament.Justbeforetheygottothebrooktheministerjumpedofforfelloff.Thepigrushedthroughthebrooklikemadandupthroughthewoods.MarillaandIrundownandhelpedtheministergetupandbrushhiscoat.

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Roboto Lora
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