Page:The autobiography of a Pennsylvanian.djvu/529

 Schwenksville, Prizer, the postmaster, leaned over the counter and gave John a special delivery letter.

“John,” said I, interrupting, “I have just bought a farm and maybe I can borrow some money of you to help pay for it.”

His eyes had an uncertain look, but he said: “Come ofer to de house vonce.”

When I was seated in his old-fashioned hickory chair with split seat, he continued:

“Did you vant some money? I haf a liddle money vat I got from a man ofer in North Vales. Or vas you only chokin?”

Touched by the readiness of the offer and its trustfulness, I hastened to explain:

“Oh, no, John, the farm is paid for and I already have the deed.”

“Vell, I thought maybe you vas only chokin'. I heart you pought de Gebert blace. Dat blace pelonged to my grandfatter, Chon Pannebecker. He got it from his fadder, olt Sam Pannebecker, and olt Sam, he got it from his fadder, Peter. My grandfadder, he sold it to olt Pete Schneiter. Schneiter cut off de voods and sold avay some of de land; the Perkiomen Inn is puilt on dat land. My grandfadder puilt de house and de parn wiss oak timber vat dey cut on de blace. In dem days dere vas no pridge ofer de Perkiomen and it vas a fery bad ford. But dese olt beople, dey nefer mindet de high vater. Dey vas no dummies. Dey chust pushed dru wiss de hay vagons and on horsepack. My grandmutter say she often rode dru de Perkiomen wiss de vater up to de horse's pelly. She pull her feet up out of de vater and trust to de horse. You pought dat blace cheap. You vill nefer lose nossing.”

“I nefer owned a gun in my life,” said John to me one day when we talked of Roosevelt, “and I nefer shot a rappit or a pird wiss a gun, and ven my poys began to get big and Rh