They agreed that the pay they received for their
work was inadequate. It seemed to them to be the fault of the
government, which was run for the benefit of others besides themselves.
That afternoon, Mr. Jeminy, with Boethius under his arm, came into
Frye's General Store, to buy a box of matches for Mrs. Grumble. As he
paid for them, he said to Thomas Frye, who had been his pupil in
school: "These little sticks of wood need only a good scratch to
confuse me, for a moment, with the God of Genesis. But they also
encourage Mrs. Grumble to burn, before I come down in the morning, the
bits of paper on which I like to scribble my notes."
At that moment, old Mrs. Ploughman entered the store to buy a paper of
pins. "Well," she cried, "don't keep me waiting all day." But when Mr.
Jeminy was gone, she said to Thomas Frye, "I guess I don't want any
pins. What was it I wanted?"
Presently she went home again, without having bought anything. "It's
all the fault of that old man," she said to herself; "he mixes a body
up so.
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