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IRA JOHNSON 1854-1941
"Hazel my ancient love-"
"Richard, would you like a broken arm?"
"I don't think you can manage it just now."
"Want to bet?"
"Ouch! Stop that! Don't do it again ... or I'll toss you back into the
creek and marry Gretchen. She is not ancient."
"Keep right on teasing me. My third husband was a tease. Everybody remarked
on how well he looked at his funeral... and what a shame it was he died so
young." Hazel-Gwen smiled up at me. "But he turned out to be heavily insured,
which does comfort a widow. Marrying Gretchen is a good idea, darling;
I would enjoy bringing her up. Teaching her to shoot, helping her with the
first baby, coaching her in how to handle a knife, working out with her in
martial arts, all the homey domestic skills a girl needs in this modem world."
"Hummph! My darling girl, you are as little and cute and pretty and
harmless as a coral snake. I think Jinx has already trained Gretchen."
"More likely Ingrid. But I can still put a polish on her. As you pointed
out, I'm experienced. What was that word you used? 'Ancient,' that was it."
"Ouch!"
"Oh, that didn't hurt. Sissy."
"The hell it didn't. I'm going to enter a monastery."
"Not till you've entered Gretchen. I've just decided, Richard; we're going
to marry Gretchen."
I treated this ridiculous statement with the neglect it deserved-I got up
and hopped into the refresher
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