Dicky, Uncle Morley's next youngest, liked to visit Aunt Min and Uncle Perce on the farm, as I did. One year he and I both shared the honor and it was great having a compatriot for all the farm adventures. Aunt Min was the most loving and lenient aunt anyone could ever have. She showed us all the intricacies of the milk room, with all its whirling metal cones and separating chambers, dividing the cream from the milk. And then she would hand each of us a small cup of straight cream to drink, saying we needed some fat on our bones. And when Dicky showed a predilection for eating mustard, she gave him a whole half jar to finish, and he did! Truth be told, my stomach felt a little unsettled after ingesting the whole cup of cream, but I survived, and Dicky did not complain of any bad after-effects.
Uncle Perce was equally kind, treating both of us to rides on the backs of the big draft horses. The trouble I got into would not have happened, except that we both came down with colds, and then terrible coughs. During the night, Dicky would cough, then I would cough, Dicky would let out a whoop, and I would follow. Eventually I heard Uncle Perce complaining to Aunt Min that if those #%@#&! kids didn't stop that #%@#&! coughing he was going to #%$@% something terrible! We both held our breath after that as much as possible between coughs. But I was terribly hurt. Didn't he know I couldn't help it? I brooded and wept into my pillow.
Hurt and brooding next day, I retaliated. I took Uncle Perce's corncob pipe, emptied it, filled it with dry cocoa, tamped it down, put a layer of tobacco over the top, and replaced it on his stand by his chair. It just about killed him! Of course, Dicky got the blame until I eventually fessed up. And when they asked why I did it, I was too embarrassed to explain it was because he had hurt my feelings. I guess I was eventually forgiven, but Uncle Perce must have heaved a big sigh of relief when Dicky and I returned home.
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