Sawmillin’ and the Marsh Hen
I didn’t see Uncle Will very often during the three or four years following our first meeting. That could have been because he came and went from the area regularly. One moment he’d be living on a farm a few miles away, and the next thing we knew, he’d upped and moved somewhere else in search of greener pastures. When our paths did cross, however, I always thoroughly enjoyed sitting and talking with him about this and that, and he seemed to feel the same way.
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