Read Online Land Sakes by Margaret A. Graham - Free Book Online

they didn’t tell me she was bad to drink but she is and that’s why they hired me to keep an eye on her. Right now we’re in Nashville staying in the Gaylord Opryland Hotel. It is out of this world!
    I doubt you’ve heard of this woman, but she is rolling in dough. Her name is Mrs. Winifred Winchester and she’s about our age or a little younger. She is a good poet but nothing to look at. Has got a glass eye and must be a size 20. At first I thought she was stuck up, but the truth is she is very shy. According to Percival, he’s the showfer (sp.) who drives the car, she keeps to herself like a hermit. On the other hand she does goofy things that draw attention to herself. I can’t figure that out.
    By the way the car is a Rolls-Royce. Carl can tell you what them cars is like. Mrs. Winchester has two fancy dogs—one rides on the seat beside Percival and the other one is on the backseat with her and me. She calls them Lucy and Desi. Ain’t that a hoot.
    This Percival is so high and mighty you’d think he owned the Rolls and everything that goes with it. He looks down his nose on nearly everybody. I might add that it is some long nose he has got—I call him Nozzle Nose but not to his face. And he is one Jehu driver! On the interstates I’d say he goes a hundred miles an hour. Land sakes, Beatrice, it’s a wonder we have not all been killed.
    This Mrs. Winchester don’t talk hardly at all, but you know me, I’m not going to put up with that even if I have to do all the talking. I started telling her about Live Oaks and she can’t get enough of me telling her about things that have happened there and the people we know. Still, the only timeshe says much of anything is after she has got a few drinks under her belt and then she don’t make a lot of sense.
    It’s safe to say she don’t never darken the door of a church so you can see I have got my work cut out for me. As you know this lifestyle rich people has got is nothing I’m use to. When a body is rolling in dough, it’s like Splurgeon says, “When the barn is full, man can live without God.” Well, anyway I’ll do what I can. Again, it’s like Splurgeon says, “We must sow the seed on stony ground, too.”
    Thanks for praying for me.
    Yours very truly,
    Esmeralda
    P.S. This is the verse the Lord used to show me that taking this job was the right thing for me to do. John 10:4.
    It was after lunch before we were ready and waiting for Percival to bring the car around. Mrs. Winchester was wearing a blonde wig and was really gussied up. The top she was wearing was made out of all different colors of shaggy-looking cloth scraps. It was matched with a long denim skirt that was dark and banded with the same colors as the top. As stout as she was, you wouldn’t think she could wear something like that, but she looked great.
    â€œMrs. Winchester,” I said, “that is one good-looking outfit you have got on.”
    â€œThis old thing?” She plucked at the sleeve. “It looks like they made this top out of rayon and cotton rags.”
    For her to be sober and talking was a welcome change.
    â€œThey call this denim a ‘broom skirt,’ and it does look like something they sweep with.”
    â€œOh, I like it! Where’d you get them shoes?” They looked like leather moccasins, but the fancy stitching made me know they cost a pretty penny.
    â€œThese shoes? I think they came from Italy.” A timid little smile told me she was tickled about something. “Most of those Italian shoes have spike heels and pointed toes... You would have to have only one toe to fit in them.”
    I laughed, and, unless I miss my guess, that pleased her a lot. “You’d never find that outfit or them shoes in the discounts,” I told her.
    â€œI wouldn’t know,” she said.
    â€œWhere do you shop, Mrs. Winchester?”
    â€œI don’t. I