Putnam.
"I am a lawyer," replied Quincy.
Mrs. Putnam looked at him inquiringly and said, "Be n't you rather young
for a lawyer? How old be you, anyway?"
Quincy decided to take a good humored part in his cross examination and
said without a smile, "I am twenty-three years, two months, sixteen days
old."
"Be you?" exclaimed Mrs. Putnam. "I shouldn't have said you were a day
over nineteen."
Quincy never felt his youth so keenly before. He determined to change
the conversation.
"Did you attend the concert, Mrs. Putnam?"
"No," said she. "Pa and me don't go out much; he's deefer'n a stone post
and I've had the rheumatiz so bad in my knees for the last five years
that I can't walk without crutches;" and she pointed to a pair that lay
on the floor beside her chair.
During this conversation old Mr. Putnam had been eying Quincy very
keenly. He blurted out, "He's a chip of the old block, Heppy; he looks
just as Jim did when he fust came to this town. Did yer say yer had an
Uncle Jim?"
Quincy shook his head.
Mrs. Putnam turned to her husband and yelled, "Now you shet up, Silas,
and don't bother the young man.
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