Excerpt from The Coraddi, Vol. 36: April, 1932
Luckily for me, she did not throw any of the despised volumes at me that first afternoon I called. She was indeed extremely gracious and invited us into a front parlor, in which she had been working. She bustled about to stir up the fire, for the day was chill, talking all the while of how good it was to get to talk to some one of culture. In ten minutes she had disposed of the whole village, up one Side the road and down the other, with pointed descriptions of each neighbor's deficiencies.
Her few scattered friends she accorded kindly condescension; all the others she attacked with withering scorn.
She had had no company for several days, we learned, for She had a great deal to talk about. She had set up a loom before the fire - place and was weaving a rug which she evidently thought very beautiful, but to me it seemed drab, like her house, and suited only to her musty rooms. As she stooped over the frame and explained how the pattern was to work out, she seemed a real old witch, so bent and gnarled and wasted away.
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