I moved closer to the old gentleman. If I had to wait until he was done talking to get what I wanted from Mr. Towne, I might as well listen to what he had to say.
“You will never guess who I was mistook for yesterday!” he exclaimed. His merry eyes looked at each of us listeners in turn.
All of our guesses fell wide of the mark, from Mr. Towne’s boisterous, “President Adams?” to my softly spoken, “Old Father Christmas?”
“No, t’was for the Nation’s Guest!” the stranger declared, slapping his thigh.
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