“People who haven’t natural gumption never learn,” retorted Aunt Jamesina, “neither in college nor life. If they live to be a hundred they really don’t know anything more than when they were born. It’s their misfortune not their fault, poor souls. But those of us who have some gumption should duly thank the Lord for it.”
“So we are classmates as well as college-mates. I am reconciled to the loss of the years that the locust has eaten,” said her companion, with a world of meaning in those wonderful
Suddenly the rain of Aunt Jamesina’s prophecy came with a swish and rush. Anne put up her umbrella and hurried down the slope. As she turned out on the harbor road a savage gust of wind tore along it. Instantly her umbrella turned wrong side out Anne clutched at it in despair. And then—there came a voice close to her:
“Pardon me—may I offer you the shelter of my umbrella?”