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diff --git a/27251-h/27251-h.htm b/27251-h/27251-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff39975 --- /dev/null +++ b/27251-h/27251-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2606 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of "Some Say", by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of "Some Say", by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: "Some Say" + Neighbours in Cyrus + +Author: Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards + +Release Date: November 13, 2008 [EBook #27251] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK "SOME SAY" *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Diane Monico, and The Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<p class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;"> +<img src="images/image001.jpg" width="434" height="600" alt="(cover)" title="" /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p class="figcenter" style="width: 401px;"> +<img src="images/image002.jpg" width="401" height="600" alt="(frontispiece)" title="" /> +</p> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + +<h1> +"SOME SAY"</h1> +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>NEIGHBOURS IN CYRUS</h2> + + +<h4>BY</h4> + +<h3>LAURA E. RICHARDS</h3> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Author of "Captain January," "Melody," "Queen Hildegarde,"<br /> +"Five-Minute Stories," "When I Was Your Age,"<br /> +"Narcissa," "Marie," "Nautilus," etc.</span></p> + + +<h6>TWELFTH THOUSAND</h6> + +<p class="figcenter" style="width: 109px;"> +<img src="images/image003.png" width="109" height="150" alt="" title="" /> +</p> + +<h5>BOSTON</h5> +<h4>DANA ESTES & COMPANY</h4> +<h6>PUBLISHERS</h6> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + + +<p class="center"> +<i>Copyright, 1896</i>,<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Estes & Lauriat</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>All rights reserved</i><br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<h5>Colonial Press:</h5> + +<h6>C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, Mass., U.S.A.<br /> +Electrotyped by Geo. C. Scott & Sons</h6> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2>"SOME SAY"</h2> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + +<h5>TO MY<br /> +<big>Dear Sister,</big><br /> +FLORENCE HOWE HALL,<br /> +THIS VOLUME<br /> +IS AFFECTIONATELY<br /> +DEDICATED<br /> +</h5> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p class="center"> +<a href="#SOME_SAY"><b>"SOME SAY."</b><br /><b>Part I.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#Part_II"><b>Part II.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#NEIGHBOURS_IN_CYRUS"><b>NEIGHBOURS IN CYRUS</b></a><br /> +</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><a name="SOME_SAY" id="SOME_SAY"></a>"SOME SAY."</h2> + + + + +<h2><a name="Part_I" id="Part_I"></a>Part I.</h2> + + +<p>"And some say, she expects to get him married +to Rose Ellen before the year's out!"</p> + +<p>"I want to know if she does!"</p> + +<p>"Her sister married a minister, and her father +was a deacon, so mebbe she thinks she's got a +master-key to the Kingdom. But I don't feel so +sure of her gettin' this minister for Rose Ellen. +Some say he's so wropped up in his garden truck +that he don't know a gal from a gooseberry bush. +He! he!"</p> + +<p>The shrill cackle was answered by a slow, unctuous +chuckle, as of a fat and wheezy person; then a door +was closed, and silence fell.</p> + +<p>The minister looked up apprehensively; his fair +face was flushed, and his mild, blue eyes looked +troubled. He gazed at the broad back of his landlady, +as she stood dusting, with minute care, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +china ornaments on the mantelpiece; but her back +gave no sign. He coughed once or twice; he said, +"Mrs. Mellen!" tentatively, first low, then in his +ordinary voice, but there was no reply. Was Mrs. +Mellen deaf? he had not noticed it before. He +pondered distressfully for a few moments; then +dropped his eyes, and the book swallowed him again. +Yet the sting remained, for when presently the figure +at the mantelpiece turned round, he looked up +hastily, and flushed again as he met his hostess' +gaze, calm and untroubled as a summer pool.</p> + +<p>"There, sir!" said Mrs. Mellen, cheerfully. "I +guess that's done to suit. Is there anything more I +can do for you before I go?"</p> + +<p>The minister's mind hovered between two perplexities; +a glance at the book before him decided +their relative importance.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever noticed, Mrs. Mellen, whether +woodcocks are more apt to fly on moonshiny nights, +as White assures us?"</p> + +<p>"Woodbox?" said Mrs. Mellen. "Why, yes, sir, +it's handy by; and when there's no moon, the +lantern always hangs in the porch. But I'll see that +Si Jones keeps it full up, after this."</p> + +<p>Decidedly, the good woman was deaf, and she had +not heard. Could those harpies be right? If any +such idea as they suggested were actually in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +hostess' mind, he must go away, for his work must +not be interfered with, and he must not encourage +hopes,—the minister blushed again, and glanced +around to see if any one could see him.</p> + +<p>But he was so comfortable here, and Miss Mellen +was so intelligent, so helpful; and this seemed the +ideal spot on which to compile his New England +"Selborne."</p> + +<p>He sighed, and thought of the woodcock again. +Why should the bird prefer a moonshiny night? +Was it likely that the creature had any appreciation +of the beauties of nature? Shakespeare uses the +woodcock as a simile of folly, to express a person +without brains. Ha!</p> + +<p>The door opened, and Rose Ellen came in, her +eyes shining with pleasure, her hands full of gold +and green.</p> + +<p>"I've found the 'Squarrosa,' Mr. Lindsay!" she +announced. "See, this is it, surely!"</p> + +<p>The minister rose, and inspected the flowers +delightedly. "This is it, surely!" he repeated. +"Stem stout, hairy above; leaves large, oblong, or the +lower spatulate-oval, and tapering into a marginal +petiole, serrate veiny; heads numerous; seeds obtuse +or acute; disk-flowers, 16 x 24. This is, indeed, a +treasure, for Gray calls it 'rare in New England.' +I congratulate you, Miss Mellen."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Late, sir?" said Mrs. Mellen, calmly. "Oh, no, +'tisn't hardly five o'clock yet. Still, 'tis time for +me to be thinkin' of gettin' supper."</p> + +<p>"Don't you want I should make some biscuit for +supper, mother?" asked Rose Ellen, coming out of +her rapt contemplation of the goldenrod that Gray +condescended to call rare, he to whom all things were +common.</p> + +<p>Her mother made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want I should make a pan of +biscuit?" Rose Ellen repeated. Still there was no +reply, and the girl turned to look at her mother in +some alarm.</p> + +<p>"Why, mother, what is the matter? why don't +you answer me?"</p> + +<p>"Your mother's deafness," the minister put in, +hurriedly, "seems suddenly increased: probably a +cold,—"</p> + +<p>"Was you speakin' to me, Rose Ellen?" said Mrs. +Mellen.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes!" said the girl, in distress.</p> + +<p>"Why, mother, how did you get this cold? you +seemed all right when I went out."</p> + +<p>"Gettin' old!" cried Mrs. Mellen. "'Tis nothin' of +the sort, Rose Ellen! I've took a cold, I shouldn't +wonder. I went out without my shawl just for a +minute. I expect 'twas careless, but there! life is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +too short to be thinkin' all the time about the flesh, +'specially when there's as much of it as I have. I've +ben expectin' I should grow hard of hearin', though, +these two years past. The Bowlers do, you know, +Rose Ellen, 'long about middle life. There was your +Uncle Lihu. I can hear him snort now, sittin' in +his chair, like a pig for all the world, and with no +idea he was makin' a sound."</p> + +<p>"But it's come on so sudden!" cried Rose Ellen, +in distress.</p> + +<p>"That's Bowler!" said her mother. "Bowler for +all the world! They take things suddin, whether +it's hoarsin' up, or breakin' out, or what it is. There! +you've heard me tell how my Aunt Phœbe 'Lizabeth +come out with spots all over her face, when she was +standin' up to be married. Chicken-pox it was, +and they never knew where she got it; but my +grand'ther said 'twas pure Bowler, wherever it come +from."</p> + +<p>She gazed placidly at her daughter's troubled face; +then, patting her with her broad hand, pushed her +gently out of the room before her.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lindsay's heard enough of my bein' hard of +hearin', I expect," she said, cheerfully, as they passed +into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Don't you fret, Rose Ellen! You won't have to +get a fog-horn yet awhile. I don't know but it would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +be a good plan for you to mix up a mess o' biscuit, if +you felt to: Mr. Lindsay likes your biscuit real well, +I heard him say so."</p> + +<p>"That's what I was going to do," said Rose Ellen, +still depressed. "I wish't you'd see the doctor, +mother. I don't believe but he could help your +hearing, if you take it before it's got settled on +you."</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't, certain!" said Mrs. Mellen. "The +idea, strong and well as I be! Bowler blood's comin' +out, that's all; and the only wonder is it hasn't +come out before."</p> + +<p>All that day, and the next, the minister did not +seem like himself. He was no more absent-minded +than usual, perhaps,—that could hardly be. But he +was grave and troubled, and the usual happy laugh +did not come when Rose Ellen checked him gently as +he was about to put pepper into his tea. Several +times he seemed about to speak: his eye dwelt +anxiously on the cream-jug, in which he seemed to be +seeking inspiration; but each time his heart failed +him, and he relapsed with a sigh into his melancholy +reverie.</p> + +<p>Rose Ellen was silent, too, and the burden of the +talk fell on her mother. At supper on the second day, +midway between the ham and the griddle-cakes, Mrs. +Mellen announced:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Rose Ellen, I expect you'd better go down to +Tupham to-morrow, and stay a spell with your grandm'ther. +She seems to be right poorly, and I expect +it'd be a comfort to her to have you with her. I +guess you'd better get ready to-night, and Calvin +Parks can take you up as he goes along."</p> + +<p>Rose Ellen and the minister both looked up with a +start, and both flushed, and both opened wide eyes of +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Why, mother!" said the girl. "I can't go away +and leave you now, with this cold on you."</p> + +<p>Her mother did not hear her, so Rose Ellen repeated +the words in a clear, high-pitched voice, with a note +of anxiety which brought a momentary shade to Mrs. +Mellen's smooth brow. The next moment, however, +the brow cleared again.</p> + +<p>"I guess you'd better go!" she said again. "It'd +be a pity if Mr. Lindsay and I couldn't get along for +a month or six weeks; and I wrote mother yesterday +that you would be up along to-morrow, so she'll be +looking for you. I don't like to have mother disappointed +of a thing at her age, it gives her the +palpitations."</p> + +<p>"You—wrote—that I was coming!" repeated +Rose Ellen. "And you never told me you was +writing, mother? I—I should have liked to have +known before you wrote."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Coat?" said Mrs. Mellen. "Oh, your coat'll do +well enough, Rose Ellen. Why, you've only just had +it bound new, and new buttons put on. I should take +my figured muslin, if I was you, and have Miss Turner +look at it and see how you could do it over: she +has good ideas, sometimes, and it'd be a little different +from what the girls here was doin', maybe. Anyway, +I'd take it, and your light sack, too. 'Twon't do no +harm to have 'em gone over a little."</p> + +<p>Rose Ellen looked ready to cry, but she kept the +tears back resolutely.</p> + +<p>"I—don't—want to leave you, with this deafness +coming on!" she shouted, her usually soft voice +ringing like a bugle across the tea-table.</p> + +<p>"There! there! don't you grow foolish," her +mother replied, with absolute calm.</p> + +<p>"Why, I can hear ye as well as ever, when you +raise your voice a mite, like that. I should admire +to know why you should stay at home on my account. +I suppose I know my way about the house, +if I be losin' my hearing just a dite. It isn't going +to spoil my cooking, that I can see; and I guess Mr. +Lindsay won't make no opposition to your going, for +any difference it'll make to him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lindsay, thus appealed to, stammered, and +blushed up to his eyes, and stammered again; but +finally managed to say, with more or less distinctness,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +that of course whatever was agreeable to Mrs. and +Miss Mellen was agreeable to him, and that he begged +not to be considered in any way in the formation of +their plans.</p> + +<p>"That's just what I was thinking!" said his +hostess. "A man don't want no botheration of +plans. So that's settled, Rose Ellen."</p> + +<p>Rose Ellen knew it was settled. She was a girl +of character and resolution, but she had never resisted +her mother's will, nor had any one else, so far +as she knew. She cried a good deal over her packing, +and dropped a tear on her silk waist, the pride +of her heart, and was surprised to find that she did +not care. "There's no one there to care whether I +look nice or not!" she said aloud; and then blushed +furiously, and looked around the room, fearfully, to +be sure that she was alone.</p> + +<p>Early next morning the crack of a whip was +heard, and Calvin Parks's voice, shouting cheerfully +for his passenger. The minister, razor in hand, +peeped between his shutters, and saw Rose Ellen +come from the house, wiping her eyes, and looking +back, with anxious eyes. A wave of feeling swept +through him, and he felt, for the moment, that he +hated Mrs. Mellen. He had never hated any one +before in his innocent life; while he was pondering +on this new and awful sensation, the pale, pretty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +face had sunk back in the depths of the old red-lined +stage, the whip cracked, and Calvin drove +away with his prey.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mellen came out on the steps, and looked +after the stage. Then, with a movement singularly +swift for so stout a person, she made a few paces +down the walk, and, turning, looked up at the +windows of the houses on either side of her own. +In both houses a figure was leaning from a window, +thrown half out over the sill, in an attitude of eager +inquiry. At sight of Mrs. Mellen they dodged back, +and only a slight waving of curtains betrayed their +presence. The good woman folded her arms deliberately, +and stood for five minutes, absorbed in the +distant landscape; then she turned, and went slowly +back to the house.</p> + +<p>"There!" she said, as she closed the door behind +her. "That'll keep 'em occupied for one while!" +and there was infinite content in her tone.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lindsay, coming in to breakfast, found his +hostess beaming behind the teakettle, placid and +cheerful as usual. He still hated her, and found +difficulty in replying with alacrity to her remarks +on the beauty of the morning.</p> + +<p>"I expect you and me'll have a right cozy time +together!" she announced. "You no need to put +yourself out to talk to me, 'cause I reelly don't seem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +to be hearing very good; and I won't talk to you, +save and except when you feel inclined. I know an +elder does love to have a quiet house about him. +My sister married a minister, and my father was a +deacon himself, so I'm accustomed to the ways of +the ministry."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lindsay stirred his tea, gloomily. The words +recalled to his mind those which had so disturbed +him a day or two ago, just when all this queer business +of the deafness had come on. He remembered +the spiteful tones of the two neighbours, and recalled +how the words had hissed in his ears. He had +thought of going away himself, lest he should encourage +false hopes in the breast of his gentle young +friend—or her mother; surely Rose Ellen,—as he +said the name to himself, he felt his ears growing +pink, and knew that he had not said the name before, +even to himself; straightway said it again, to prove +the absurdity of something, he was not sure what, +and felt his throat dry and hot. Now Rose Ellen +herself was gone, and for an indefinite time. She +had not gone willingly, of that he was sure; but it +was equally evident that her mother had no such +thoughts as those two harridans had suggested. +He glanced up furtively, to meet a broad, beaming +glance, and the question whether he felt feverish +any.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You seem to flush up easy!" said Mrs. Mellen. +"I should be careful, if I was you, Mr. Lindsay, +and not go messing round ponds and such at this +season of the year. It's just this time we commonly +look for sickness rising in the air."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lindsay stirred his tea again, and sighed. +His mind seemed singularly distracted; and that, +too, when the most precious moments of the year +were passing. He must put all other matters out of +his head, and think only of his great work.</p> + +<p>Had the Blackburnian Warbler been seen in this +neighbourhood, as he had been told? He could +hardly believe in such good fortune. The shy, mistrustful +bird, hunting the thickest foliage of the tallest +forest trees,—how should his landlady's daughter +have seen it when she was seeking for ferns? yet her +description had been exactly that of the books: +"Upper parts nearly uniform black, with a whitish +scapular stripe and a large white patch in the middle +of the wing coverts; an oblong patch—" but she had +not been positive about the head. No, but she <i>was</i> +positive as to the bright orange-red on chin, throat, +and forepart of the breast, and the three white tail-feathers. +Ah! why was she gone? why was she not +here to show him the way, as she promised, to the +place where she had seen the rare visitor? He might +possibly have found the nest, that rare nest which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +Samuels never saw, which only Audubon had +described: "composed externally of different textures, +and lined with silky fibres and thin, delicate +strips of bark, over which lies a thick bed of feathers +and horsehair."</p> + +<p>It should be found in a small fork of a tree, should +it? five or six feet from the ground, near a brook? +well, he might still search, the next time he went +out; meanwhile, there were the ferns to analyze, and +that curious moss to determine, if might be. "But +mosses are almost hopeless!" he said aloud, with an +appealing glance across the table, where he was wont +to look for sympathy and encouragement.</p> + +<p>"Soap dish?" said Mrs. Mellen, with alacrity.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't wonder you ask, Mr. Lindsay. Why, +I found it full of frogs' eggs this very morning, and I +hove 'em away and scalt it out. It's drying in the +sun this minute, and I'll bring it right up to your +room directly."</p> + +<p>She beamed on him, and left the room. Mr. Lindsay +groaned; looked about him for help, but found +none, and retired, groaning, to his study.</p> + + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><a name="Part_II" id="Part_II"></a>Part II.</h2> + + +<p>The minister had had a delightful but exhausting +afternoon. He had gone to look for the nest of +a marsh-hen, which he had some reason to think might +be in a certain swamp, about five miles from the +village. He did not find the nest, but he found +plenty of other things: his pockets bulged with +mosses and roots, his hat was wound with a curious +vine that might possibly be Clematis Verticillaris, +and both hands were filled with specimens of every +conceivable kind. Incidentally the mosquitoes and +black flies had found him: his face was purple, and, +like that of the lady at the Brick Lane Branch tea-party, +"swellin' wisibly;" and blood was trickling +down his well-shaped nose from a bramble-scratch. +He had fallen down once or twice in the bog, with +results to his clothes; and altogether he presented +a singular figure to the view of his parishioners as he +strode hastily through the street. Heads were thrust +out of windows, staid eyes rolled in horror, but the +minister saw nothing. He was tired, and absorbed in +his new possessions. It was good to sit down in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +study, and spread his treasures out on the broad +table, and gloat over them. A clump of damp moss +rested quietly on his new sermon, "The Slough of +Despond," but he took no note. He was looking for +a place to put this curious little lizard in, and after +anxious thought selected the gilt celluloid box, lined +with pink satin, which the Mission Circle had given +him on Christmas for his collars and cuffs. He +felt, vaguely, that it was not the right place for the +lizard, but there seemed to be nothing else in reach,—except +the flitter-work pen-box, and Rose Ellen +had made that for him. Ah! if Rose Ellen were +here now, how much she could help him! it was so +much easier for two to analyze than one. He at the +microscope, and Rose Ellen corroborating, correcting +from the textbook,—it was a perfect arrangement.</p> + +<p>The minister sighed heavily. Mrs. Mellen brought +in his tea, for it was Wednesday evening, and he +preferred an early cup of tea, and a modest supper +after the meeting. Food distracted his mind, he was +apt to say, from thought, a statement which his landlady +treated with indulgent contempt, as she had +never known him to remark the difference between +"riz" bread and the soda article.</p> + +<p>She set the cup down before him, and he promptly +dipped a fern root into it; then started back with a +cry of dismay.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well indeed, sir!" said Mrs. Mellen, "I should +think so, truly! What did you do that for, and spoil +your tea?"</p> + +<p>"The—tea—a—that is, it is of no consequence +about the tea!" said Mr. Lindsay, hastily.</p> + +<p>"I fear I have injured the root. I thought it was +water. Dear! dear! Miss Mellen was in the habit of +bringing me a glass of water when I brought plants +home."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mellen said nothing, but brought the water, +and a fresh cup of tea; but Mr. Lindsay had fallen into +the depths of the moss, and took no notice of either.</p> + +<p>She left the room, but presently returned, knitting +in hand, and stood, unnoticed, in the doorway, glancing +from time to time at the minister. He certainly was +"a sight to behold," as she said to herself. She may +have thought other things beside, but her face gave +no sign. Presently the bell began to ring for Wednesday +evening meeting. Mrs. Mellen glanced again +at the minister, but he heard nothing. The botany +was open before him, and he was muttering strange +words that sounded like witch-talk.</p> + +<p>"Stamens six, hypogenous! anthers introrse! +capsule cartilaginous, loculicidally three-valved, +scurfy-leaved epiphytic!" What did it all mean? +A slow flush crept over the woman's broad, placid +face; her eyelids quivered, her eye roamed restlessly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +about the room. She shifted her weight from one +foot to the other, and breathed heavily, as if in distress; +and still her eyes came back to the slender +figure in the great chair, bent in absorbed interest +over the table.</p> + +<p>Ding! dong! ding! the notes came dropping +through the air, clear and resonant. Even a deaf +person might hear them, perhaps. Mrs. Mellen was +evidently struggling with herself. Once she opened +her lips as if to speak; once she stepped forward with +outstretched hand, as if to shake the man into wakefulness +and attention; but she did not speak, and her +hand dropped again; and presently the bell stopped, +and Sophronia Mellen went away to her sitting-room, +hanging her head.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later there was knocking at the door, +and the sound of many voices, anxious voices, pitched +high and loud, on account of Mrs. Mellen's deafness.</p> + +<p>"How's Mr. Lindsay? When was he took sick? +Have ye had the doctor?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think it's ketchin', Mis' Mellen? Think +of all the young children in this parish, if anythin' +should get the rounds! My! it's awful!"</p> + +<p>"How does he look? Some say he was pupple in +the face when they see him coming home through the +street. Most everybody did see him, and he was a +sight! Apoplexy, most likely!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Has he ever had fits, think? he don't look fitty, +but you never can tell."</p> + +<p>"Have ye sent for his folks? You'd feel better +to, I sh'd think, if he's taken; some say he has a +mother rollin' in wealth, down Brunswick way."</p> + +<p>"Well, some say he ain't nothin' of the sort. +Christiana Bean saw an aunt of his once, and she +hadn't flesh enough on her to bait a mouse-trap +with, Christiana said so."</p> + +<p>"Does he know you, Mis' Mellen? it's awful to see +folks out of their heads; I don't know how any one +kin bear to see it; you'd better let me come in and +spell you a bit; you look clean tuckered out with the +fright you've had."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mellen stood and looked quietly at the crowd +of "members" that surged and cackled about her.</p> + +<p>"I could hear better if one'd speak at a time!" +she said, mildly.</p> + +<p>"Did you want to see Elder Lindsay? it—it must +be gettin' near meetin'-time, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Meetin'-time! meetin's over, and Mr. Lindsay +never come nigh. Do you mean to say he ain't sick? +do you mean to say—"</p> + +<p>"What <i>do</i> you mean to say, Mis' Mellen?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mellen held the door in her hand, and still +gazed quietly at the excited throng. At length,—</p> + +<p>"Whatever's the matter with Mr. Lindsay," she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +said, in clear incisive tones, "I ain't going to let in no +lunatic asylum to drive him clean out of his mind. +Deacon Strong and Deacon Todd, if you'll step this +way, I presume Mr. Lindsay'll be pleased to see you. +And if the rest of you 'ud go home quiet, mebbe it +might seem more consistent. There has been a +meetin', you say? the Baptists will be just about +comin' out now."</p> + +<p>An hour later, the two deacons were taking their +leave of Mr. Lindsay. They stood, hat in hand, and +were looking at the young man with pitying eyes. +They were elderly men, of kind disposition.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Lindsay," Mr. Todd was saying; "I +guess we've said about all there is to say. Of course +'twas a pity, and such things make talk; but 'twon't +occur again, I dare say. Some say—"</p> + +<p>"It <i>may</i> occur again," cried the young minister. +He was sitting with his head in his hand, and +despair in his face.</p> + +<p>"It may occur again! I seem to have no mind, +no memory! I am unfit to be a minister of the +Christian Church. My brethren, what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>The elder men exchanged glances: then Deacon +Strong stepped forward and laid his hands on the +young man's shoulder, for he loved him.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lindsay," he said, kindly, "so far as I can +see, there's only one thing the matter with you; +you want a wife!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A wife!" repeated Charles Lindsay. His tone +suggested that he had never heard of the article.</p> + +<p>"A wife!" the deacon said again, with emphasis; +and his fellow deacon nodded assent.</p> + +<p>"A sensible, clever young woman, who will help +you in parish matters, and be a comfort to you in +every way,—a—hem! yes, in every way." The +deacon reddened through his beard, and glanced at +Deacon Todd; but the latter was a kind man, and +knew Mrs. Strong, and gazed out of the window.</p> + +<p>"And—and tell you when it was time for meeting. +I don't know as you'd have to look more'n a +hundred miles for the very young woman that would +make the right kind of helpmeet for you, but you +know best about that. Anyway, Mr. Lindsay, it is +not good for man to be alone, we have Scripture for +that: and it's quite evident that it's particularly bad +for you to be alone, with your—a—your love of +nature" (the deacon caught sight of the lizard, peering +disconsolately out of the gilt celluloid box, and +brought his remarks to a hasty conclusion). "And so +we'll be going, Mr. Lindsay, and don't you fret about +to-night's meeting, for we'll make it all right."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lindsay bowed them out, with vague thanks, +and muttered expressions of regret. He hardly heard +their adieux; the words that were saying themselves +over and over in his head were,—</p> + +<p>"You want a wife!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>Did he want a wife? Was that what was the matter +with him? Was that why he went about all day +and every day, these last weeks, feeling as if half of +him were asleep? He had always been a strong +advocate of the celibacy of the clergy, as far as his +own case went. Nothing, he had always assured +himself, should ever come between him and his work. +A wife would be a perpetual distraction: she would +want money, and amusement, and a thousand things +that he never thought about; and she would interfere +with his sermons, and with his collections, and—and +altogether, he would never marry. But now,—</p> + +<p>And what was it that happened only the other day, +here in the village? A man and his wife had been +quarrelling, to the scandal of the whole congregation. +They were an elderly couple, and when it came to +smashing crockery and emptying pails of water over +each other, the minister felt it his duty to interfere. +So he called on the wife, intending to reason with her +first alone, and then, when she was softened and +convinced, to call in the husband and reconcile them, +and perhaps pray with them, since both were "members." +But before he had spoken a dozen of his well-arranged +and logical sentences, he was interrupted by +loud and tearful outcries.</p> + +<p>The lady never thought it would come to this, no, +never! Some thought she had enough to bear without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +this, but she knew how to submit to the will of +Providence, and no one should say she struv nor +hollered. She knew what was due to a minister, even +if he was only just in pants; she only hoped Mr. +Lindsay wouldn't see fit to say anything to her husband. +Take Reuben Meecher when he was roused, +and tigers was tame by him: and if he should know +that his wife was spoke to so, by them as wasn't +born or thought of when they was married, and +nobody couldn't say but they had lived respectable +for forty years, and now to come to this! The lady +was well used to ministers, and some of the most +aged in the country, and she knew what was due to +them; but for her part, she thought 'twas well for +ministers, as well as others, to speak of what they'd +had exper'ence in, and then there would be no feeling!</p> + +<p>The visit was not a success, nor did it cheer the +minister to hear the old couple chuckling to each +other as he went sadly away, and to feel that they +were laughing at him.</p> + +<p>But he was very humble, and he laid the spiteful +words to heart.</p> + +<p>What did he know? What had he to say to his +people, when it came to the real, terrible things of +life? What had he had in his whole life, save kindness +and a sheltered home, and then study, and a little +divinity, and a little science? He sat and gazed at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +the image of himself in his mind's glass, and found it +a gibbering phantom, with emptiness where should +be eyes, and dry dust where should be living waters.</p> + +<p>As he sat thus sadly pondering, the sound of voices +struck upon his ear. The window was open, and now +that his mind was awake, there was no question of +his hearing, when the two next-door neighbours +leaned out of their back windows, across Mrs. Mellen's +back yard. He had grown to loathe the sound +of those two voices, the shrill cackling one, and the +fat chuckle that was even more hateful. What were +they saying now?</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me she wants to git him for herself? +speak jest a dite louder! She can't hear ye, +and he's so muddled up he never heard the bell for +meetin', some say; but there's others think he'd ben +drinkin', and Deacon Strong and Deacon Todd jest +leagued together with Sophrony Mellen to hide it. +He was black in the face when he came home, and +reelin' in his walk, for I see him with these eyes."</p> + +<p>Charles Lindsay started as if stung by a venomous +snake. He put out his hand to the window, but now +the sharp voice broke in, anxious to have its turn.</p> + +<p>"Well, I shouldn't be a mite surprised if 'twas so, +Mis' Bean, and you've had experience, I'm sure, in +such matters, after what you suffered with Mr. Bean. +But what I was sayin', some do say Phrony Mellen's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +bound to have the minister for herself, and that's +why she sent Rose Ellen off, traipsin' way down to +Tupham, when her grandma'am don't need her no +more'n a toad needs a tail."</p> + +<p>"I want to know if they say that!" replied Mrs. +Bean. "But you know, some say Rose Ellen's got a +beau down to Tupham, and that's why she went off +without askin' leave or license, and her ma deef and +all. I see her go myself, and she went off early in +the mornin', and if ever I see a person what you may +call slink away secret, like she'd done somethin' to +be 'shamed of, 'twas that girl. <i>She</i> knew what she +was goin' for, well enough. Rose Ellen ain't no fool, +for all she's as smooth as baked custard. Now you +mark my words, Mis' Peake,—"</p> + +<p>At this moment, the back door opened with a loud +clang. Mrs. Mellen stood on the doorstep, and her +eyes were very bright. She said nothing, but gazed +calmly up and down the yard, as if considering the +beauty of the night. Then, after a few minutes, she +turned and scrutinized her neighbours' windows. Nothing +was to be seen, only a white muslin curtain waved +gently in the moonlight: nothing was to be heard, +only a faint rustle, probably of the same curtain.</p> + +<p>"It's an elegant night!" said Mrs. Mellen, aloud. +"I thought I heard voices, but my hearin' does play +me such tricks, these days."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>Her calm, sensible voice fell like balm on the distracted +ears of the minister. He was soothed, he +knew not why. The horrors that those harpies suggested,—could +there be truth in them? Rose Ellen +with a—his mind refused to frame the detestable +word! Was there anything true in the world? Was it +all scandal and hatefulness and untruth?</p> + +<p>He rose and paced his study in anguish of mind, +but his ears were still awake,—he thought he never +should regain the joy of losing himself,—and now +another sound came to them, the sound of wheels. +Why did his heart stop, and then beat violently? +What was there in the sound of wheels? It was the +late stage, of course, and Calvin Parks was driving +fast, as usual, to get to his home, five miles away, +before ten o'clock at night. But that stage came +from Tupham, and Tupham meant Rose Ellen. Rose +Ellen, who was as smooth as baked custard, and +who had a—the wheels were slacking; the steady +beat of the horses' feet stopped; the stage had paused +at the Widow Mellen's door.</p> + +<p>"Here we be!" said Calvin Parks. "Take my +hand, Rosy! so, thar she goes! Hope ye'll find yer +ma right smart! Give her my respects and tell her,—wal, +I swan!"</p> + +<p>For the door flew open, and out ran the minister, +torn and stained and covered with dust, and caught<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +Rose Ellen by both hands and drew her almost +forcibly into the house.</p> + +<p>"Mother!" cried the girl. "How is she? I—I +got so scared, not hearing from her, I couldn't stay +another day, Mr. Lindsay!"</p> + +<p>"Oh,—your mother?" said Mr. Lindsay, incoherently. +"She—a—she seems to be in excellent +health, except for her deafness. It is I who am ill, +Rose Ellen: very ill, and wanting you more than I +could bear!"</p> + +<p>"Wanting me?" faltered Rose Ellen, with lips +wide, with blue eyes brimming over. "You, Mr. +Lindsay, wanting me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Rose Ellen!" cried the minister. They +were still standing in the passage, and he was still +holding her hands, and it was quite absurd, only +neither of them seemed to realize it.</p> + +<p>"I have always wanted you, but I have only just +found it out. I cannot live at all without you: I +have been only half alive since you went away. I +want you for my own, for always."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can have me!" cried Rose Ellen, and the +blue eyes brimmed over altogether with happy shining +tears. "Oh, I was yours all the time, only I didn't +know you—I didn't know—"</p> + +<p>She faltered, and then hurried on. "It—it wasn't +only that I was scared about mother, Mr. Lindsay. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +couldn't stay away from—oh, some said—some said +you were going to be married, and I couldn't bear it, +no, I couldn't!"</p> + +<p>But when Charles Lindsay heard that, he drew +Rose Ellen by both hands into the study, and shut the +door. And only the lizard knew what happened next.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was a month later.</p> + +<p>There had been a wedding, the prettiest wedding +that the village had ever seen. The whole world +seemed turned to roses, and the sweetest rose of all, +Rose Ellen Lindsay, had gone away on her husband's +arm, and Deacon Strong and Deacon Todd were shaking +hands very hard, and blowing peals of joy with +their pocket-handkerchiefs. Mrs. Mellen had preserved +her usual calm aspect at the wedding, and +looked young enough to be her own daughter, "some +said," in her gray silk and white straw bonnet. +But when it was all over, the wedding party gone, +and the neighbours scattered to their homes again, +Sophronia Mellen did a strange thing. She went +round deliberately, and opened every window of her +house. The house stood quite apart, with only the +two houses close beside it on either hand, and no +others till you came quite into the street itself. She +opened every window to its utmost. Then she took a +tin pan, and a pair of tongs, and leaned out of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +front parlour window, and screamed three times, at +the top of her lungs, beating meanwhile with all her +might upon the pan. Then she went to the next +window, and screamed and banged again, and so on +all over the house. There were twenty windows in +her house, and by the time she had gone the round, +she was crimson and breathless. Nevertheless, she +managed to put her last breath into a shriek of +such astounding volume that the windows fairly +rang. One last defiant clang of the tongs on the +tin pan and then she sat down quietly by the back +parlour window, and settled herself well behind the +curtain, and prepared to enjoy herself thoroughly. +"They shall have their fill this time!" she murmured +to herself; "and I shall get all the good of it."</p> + +<p>For some minutes there was dead silence: the +event had been too awful to be treated lightly. At +length a rustling was heard, and very cautiously a +sharp nose, generously touched with colour, was protruded +from the window of the left-hand house.</p> + +<p>"Mis' Bean," said the owner of the nose. "Be +you there?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I should say I was!" was the reply; and +Mrs. Bean's fat curls shook nervously out of her +window.</p> + +<p>"Maria Peake, what do you s'pose this means? +Ain't it awful? Why, I've got palpitations to that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +degree,—don't s'pose there's a robber in the house, +do ye? with all them weddin' presents about, 'twould +be a dreadful thing! 'Tain't likely he would spare +her life, and she tryin' to give the alarm like that! +Most likely she's layin' dead this minute, and welterin' +in her—"</p> + +<p>"Sssssssh!" hissed Mrs. Peake, in a deadly whisper. +"Melissa Bean, you won't let a person hear +herself think. 'Tain't no robber, I tell ye! She's +gone out of her mind, Phrony Mellen has, as sure as +you're a breathin' woman!"</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me she has!" Mrs. Bean leaned +further out, her eyes distended with awful curiosity, +her fat lips dropping apart. She was not a pleasant +object, the hidden observer thought; but she was no +worse than the skinny cabbage-stalk which now +stretched itself far out from the opposite window.</p> + +<p>"I tell ye," Mrs. Peake hissed, still in that serpent-whisper, +the most penetrating sound that ever broke +stillness, "She's as crazy as a clo'esline in a gale o' +wind. Some say she's wore an onsettled eye for six +weeks past, and she glared at me yesterday, when I +run in to borry an egg, same as if I was one wild +animal and she was another. Ssssh! 'Tis Bowler, I +tell ye! They go that way, jest as often as they git +a chance! I call it an awful jedgment on Elder +Lindsay, bein' married into that family. Some say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +his mother besought him on her bended knees, but he +was clean infatooated. I declare to you, Mis' Bean, +I'm terrified most to death, to think of you and me +alone here, so near to a ravin' lunatic. I don't think +nothin' of robbers, alongside o' madness. She might +creep in while you're standin' there,—your house is +more handy by than mine, 'count of there bein' no +fence, and—"</p> + +<p>"Yah! bah! ha! ha! ha! hurrah!" sounded in +sharp, clear tones from Mrs. Mellen's window. Two +ghastly faces, white with actual terror, gazed at each +other for an instant, then disappeared; and immediately +after was heard a sound of bolts being driven +home, and of heavy furniture being dragged about.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Mellen sat and fanned herself, being +somewhat heated, and gazed calmly at the beauty of +the prospect.</p> + +<p>"I've enjoyed myself real well!" she said. "I +couldn't free my mind, not while Rosy and Mr. +Lindsay was round; I've had a real good time."</p> + +<p>She fanned herself placidly, and then added, addressing +the universe in general, with an air of ineffable +good will:</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder if my hearin' improved, too, +kind o' suddin, same as it came on. That's Bowler, +too! It's real convenient, bein' a Bowler!"</p> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h1>NEIGHBOURS IN CYRUS</h1> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><a name="NEIGHBOURS_IN_CYRUS" id="NEIGHBOURS_IN_CYRUS"></a>NEIGHBOURS IN CYRUS.</h2> + + +<p>"Hi-Hi!" said Miss Peace, looking out of the +window. "It is really raining. Isn't that +providential, now?"</p> + +<p>"Anne Peace, you are enough to provoke a saint!" +replied a peevish voice from the furthest corner of the +room. "You and your providences are more than I +can stand. What do you mean this time, I <i>should</i> +like to know? the picnic set for to-day, and every soul +in the village lottin' on goin', 'xcept those who <i>would</i> +like best to go and can't. I've been longin' for these +two years to go to a picnic and it's never ben so's I +could. And now, jest when I <i>could</i> ha' gone, this +affliction must needs come to me. And then to have +you rejoicin' 'cause it rains!"</p> + +<p>The speaker paused for breath, and Miss Peace +answered mildly: "I'm real sorry for you, Delia, +you know I am; and if the' was any way of getting +you to the grove,—but what I was thinking of, you +know I couldn't finish Jenny Miller's dress last night,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +do what I could; and seeing it raining now, thinks I, +they'll have to put off the picnic till to-morrow or +next day, and then Jennie can go as nice as the rest. +She does need a new dress, more than most of the +girls who has them. And she's so sweet and pretty, +it's a privilege to do for her. That's all I was +thinking, Delia."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delia Means sniffed audibly, then she groaned.</p> + +<p>"Your leg hurting you?" cried Miss Peace, with +ready sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess you'd think so," was the reply. +"If <i>you</i> had red-hot needles run into your leg. Not +that it's any matter to anybody."</p> + +<p>"Hi-hi," said Miss Peace, cheerily. "It's time +the bandages was changed, Delia. You rest easy +just a minute, and I'll run and fetch the liniment +and give you a rub before I put on the new ones."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Means remaining alone, it is proper to introduce +her to the reader. She and Miss Peace were +the rival seamstresses of Cyrus Village; that is, they +would have been rivals, if Mrs. Means had had her +way; but rivalry was impossible where Anne Peace +was one of the parties. She had always maintained +stoutly that Delia Means needed work a sight more +than she did, having a family, and her husband so +weakly and likely to go off with consumption 'most +any time. Many and many a customer had Anne<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +turned from her door, with her pleasant smile, and +"I don't hardly know as I could, though I should be +pleased to accommodate you; but I presume likely +Mis' Means could do it for you. She doos real nice +work, and I don't know as she's so much drove just +now as I am."</p> + +<p>Delia Case had been a schoolmate of Anne Peace's. +She was a pretty girl, with a lively sense of her own +importance and a chronic taste for a grievance. She +had married well, as every one thought, but in these +days her husband had lost his health and Delia was +obliged to put her shoulder to the wheel. She sewed +well, but there was a sigh every time her needle went +into the cloth, and a groan when it came out.</p> + +<p>"A husband and four children, and have to sew +for a living!"—this was the burden of her song; and +it had become familiar to her neighbours since +David Means had begun to "fail up," as they say +in Cyrus.</p> + +<p>Anne Peace had always been the faithful friend of +"Delia Dumps." (It was Uncle Asy Green who had +given her the name which stuck to her through thick +and thin—Uncle Asy believed in giving people their +due, and thought "Anne made a dreffle fool of herself, +foolin' round with that woman at all.") Anne +had been her faithful friend, and never allowed people +to make fun of her if she were present.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>A week before my story opens, when Mrs. Means +fell down and broke her leg, just as she was passing +Miss Peace's house, the latter lady declared it to be a +special privilege.</p> + +<p>"I can take care of her," she explained to the +doctor, when he expressed regret at being obliged to +forbid the sufferer's being moved for some weeks, +"just as well as not and better. David isn't fit to +have the care of her, and—well, doctor, I can say to +you, who know it as well as I do, that Delia mightn't +be the best person for David to have round him just +now, when he needs cheering up. Then, too, I can +do her sewing along with my own, as easy as think; +work's slack now, and there's nothing I'm specially +drove with. I've been wishing right along that +I could do something to help, now that David is +so poorly. I'm kin to David, you know, so take it +by and large, doctor, it doos seem like a privilege, +doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>The doctor growled. He was not fond of Mrs. +Means.</p> + +<p>"If you can get her moved out of Grumble Street +and into Thanksgiving Alley," he said, "it'll be a +privilege for this village; but you can't do it, Anne. +However, there's no use talking to you, you incorrigible +optimist. You're the worst case I ever saw, +Anne Peace, and I haven't the smallest hope of curing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +you. Put the liniment on her leg as I told you, +and I'll call in the morning. Good day!"</p> + +<p>"My goodness me, what was he saying to you?" +Mrs. Means asked as Anne went back into the bedroom. +"You've got something that you'll never get +well of? Well, Anne Peace, that does seem the cap +sheaf on the hull. Heart complaint, I s'pose it is; +and what would become of me, if you was to be +struck down, as you might be any minute of time, +and me helpless here, and a husband and four children +at home and he failin' up. You did look dretful +gashly round the mouth yisterday, I noticed it at +the time, but of course I didn't speak of it. Why, +here I should lay, and might starve to death, and you +cold on the floor, for all the help I should get." Mrs. +Means shed tears, and Anne Peace answered with as +near an approach to asperity as her soft voice could +command.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk foolishness, Delia. I'm not cold yet, +nor likely to be. Here, let me 'tend to your leg; it's +time I was getting dinner on this minute."</p> + +<p>It continued to rain on the picnic day; no uncertain +showers, to keep up a chill and fever of fear and +hope among the young people, but a good, honest +downpour, which everybody past twenty must recognize +as being just the thing the country needed. +Jenny Miller came in, smiling all over, though she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +professed herself "real sorry for them as was disappointed." +"Tudie Peaslee sat down and cried, when +she saw 'twas rainin'," she said, as she prepared to +give her dress the final trying-on. "There, Miss +Peace. I did try to feel for her, but I just couldn't, +seems though. Oh, ain't that handsome? that little +puff is too cute for anything! I do think you've +been smart, Miss Peace. Not that you ever was anything +else."</p> + +<p>"You've a real easy figure to fit, Jenny," Miss +Peace replied, modestly. "I guess that's half the +smartness of it. It doos set good, though, I'm free to +think. The styles is real pretty this summer, anyhow. +Don't that set good, Delia?"</p> + +<p>She turned to Mrs. Means, who was lying on the +sofa (they call it a l'unge in Cyrus), watching the +trying-on with keenly critical eyes.</p> + +<p>"Ye-es," she said. "The back sets good enough, +but 'pears to me there's a wrinkle about the neck that +I shouldn't like to see in any work of mine. I've +always ben too particklar, though; it's time thrown +away, but I can't bear to send a thing out 'cept jest as +it should be."</p> + +<p>"It <i>don't</i> wrinkle, Mis' Means!" cried Jenny, indignantly. +"Not a mite. I was turning round to +look at the back of the skirt, and that pulled it; there +ain't a sign of a wrinkle, Miss Peace, so don't you +think there is."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Means sniffed, and said something about the +change in young folks' manners since she was a girl. +"If I'd ha' spoke so to my elders—I won't say betters, +for folks ain't thought much of when they have +to sew for a livin', with a husband and four children +to keer for—I guess I should ha' found it out in +pretty quick time."</p> + +<p>"Hi-hi!" said Miss Peace, soothingly. "There, +Delia, Jenny didn't mean anything. Jenny, I guess +I'll have to take you into the bedroom, so's I can +pull this skirt out a little further. This room doos +get so cluttered with all my things round." She hustled +Jenny, swelling like an angry partridge, into the +next room, and closed the door carefully.</p> + +<p>"You don't want to anger Mis' Means, dear," she +said gently, taking the pins out of her mouth for freer +speech. "She may be jest a scrap pudgicky now and +again, but she's seen trouble, you know, and she doos +feel it hard to be laid up, and so many looking to her +at home. Turn round, dear, jest a dite—there!"</p> + +<p>"I can't help it, Miss Peace," said Jenny. "There's +no reason why Mis' Means should speak up and say +the neck wrinkled, when anybody can see it sets like +a duck's foot in the mud. I don't mind what she +says to me, but I ain't goin' to see you put upon, nor +yet other folks ain't. I should like to know! and that +wrapper she cut for Tudie Peaslee set so bad, you'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +think she'd fitted it on the pump in the back yard, +Mis' Peaslee said so herself."</p> + +<p>"Hi-hi!" cried Anne Peace, softly, with an apprehensive +glance toward the door; "don't speak so +loud, Jennie. Tudie ain't so easy a form to fit as +you, not near. And you say she was real put about, +do ye, at the picnic being put off?"</p> + +<p>"She was so!" Jenny assented, seeing that the +subject was to be changed. "She'd got her basket +all packed last night, she made so sure 'twas goin' to +be fine to-day. Chicken sandwiches, she had, and +baked a whole pan of sponge-drops, jest because some +one—you know who—is fond of 'em." Miss Peace +nodded sagely, with her mouth full of pins, and would +have smiled if she could; "and now they've put it +off till Saturday, 'cause the minister can't go before +then, and every livin' thing will be spoiled."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear!" cried Miss Anne, her kind face +clouding over; "that does seem too bad, don't it? all +those nice things! and Tudie makes the best sponge-cakes +I ever eat, pretty nigh."</p> + +<p>Jenny smiled, and stretched her hand toward a +basket she had brought. "They won't really be +wasted, Miss Peace," she said. "Tudie thought you +liked 'em, and I've got some of 'em here for you, this +very minute. You was to eat 'em for your own supper, +Tudie told me to tell you so."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I do declare, if that isn't thoughtful!" +exclaimed Miss Peace, looking much gratified. +"Tudie is a sweet girl, I must say. Delia is real fond +of cake, and she's been longing for some, but it doos +seem as if I couldn't find time to make it, these days."</p> + +<p>"I should think not!" cried Jenny (who was +something of a pepper-pot, it must be confessed), +"I should think not, when you have her to take care +of, and her work and yours to do, and all. And, +Miss Peace,—Tudie meant the sponge-drops for <i>you</i>, +every one. She told me so."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, to be sure she did, and that's why +I feel so pleased, just as much as if I had eaten them. +But bread <i>is</i> better for me, and—why! if she hasn't +sent a whole dozen. One, two, three—yes, a dozen, +and one over, sure as I stand here. Now, that I call +generous. And, I'll tell you what, dearie! Don't +say a word, for I wouldn't for worlds have Tudie feel +to think I was slighting her, or didn't appreciate her +kindness; but—well, I <i>have</i> wanted to send some +little thing round to that little girl of Josiah Pincher's, +that has the measles, and I do suppose she'd be +pleased to death with some of these sponge-drops. +Hush! don't say a word, Jenny! it would be a real +privilege to me, now it would. And you know it +isn't that I don't think the world of Tudie, and you, +too; now, don't you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jenny protested, half-laughing, and half-crying; +for Tudie Peaslee had declared herself ready to bet +that Miss Peace would not eat a single one of the +sponge-drops, and Jenny had vowed she should. But +would she or would she not, before ten minutes were +over she had promised to leave the sponge-drops at +the Pinchers' door as she went by, for little Geneva. +There was no resisting Miss Peace, Tudie was right; +but suddenly a bright idea struck Jenny, just as she +was putting on her hat and preparing to depart. +Seizing one of the sponge-drops, she broke off a bit, +and fairly popped it into Miss Peace's mouth, as the +good lady was going to speak. "It's broke, now," +she cried, in high glee, "it's broke in two, and you +can't give it to nobody. Set right down, Miss Peace, +and let me feed you, same as I do my canary bird." +She pushed the little dressmaker into a chair, and the +bits followed each other in such quick succession that +Miss Peace could make no protest beyond a smothered, +"Oh, don't ye, dear; now don't! that's enough!—my +stars, Jenny, what do you think my mouth's +made of?" (Crunch!) "There, dear, there! It is real +good—oh, dear! not so fast. I <i>shall</i> choke! Tell +Tudie—no, dearie, not another morsel!" (Crunch.) +"Well, Jenny Miller, I didn't think you would act +so, now I didn't."</p> + +<p>The sponge-cake was eaten, and Jenny, with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +triumphant kiss on the little rosy, withered-apple +cheek, popped her head in at the parlour door to cry, +"Good day, Mis' Means!" and flew laughing away +with her victory and her cakes.</p> + +<p>"Well, Anne Peace," was Mrs. Means's greeting, as +her hostess came back, looking flushed and guilty, +and wiping her lips on her apron, "how you can stand +havin' that Miller girl round here passes me. She'd +be the death of me, I know that; but it's lucky other +folks ain't so feelin' as I am, I always say. Of all the +forward, up-standin' tykes ever I see—but there! it +ain't to be supposed anybody cares whether I'm sassed +or whether I ain't."</p> + +<p>Saturday was bright and fair, and Anne Peace +stood at the window with a beaming smile, watching +the girls troop by on their way to the picnic. She +had moved Mrs. Means's sofa out of the corner, so +that she could see, too, and there was a face at each +window. Miss Peace was a little plump, partridge-like +woman, with lovely waving brown hair, and +twinkling brown eyes. She had never been a beauty, +but people always liked to look at her, and the young +people declared she grew prettier every year. Mrs. +Means was tall and weedy, with a figure that used to +be called willowy, and was now admitted to be lank; +her once fair complexion had faded into sallowness, +and her light hair had been frizzed till there was little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +left of it. Her eyebrows had gone up, and the corners +of her mouth had gone down, so that her general +effect was depressing in the extreme.</p> + +<p>"There go Tudie and Jenny!" cried Miss Peace, +in delight. "If they ain't a pretty pair, then I +never saw one, that's all. Jenny's dress doos set +pretty, if I do say it; and after all, it's her in it that +makes it look so well. There comes the minister, +Delia. Now I'm glad the roses are out so early. +He doos so love roses, Mr. Goodnow does. And the +honeysuckle is really a sight. Why, this is the first +time you have fairly seen the garden, Delia, since +you came. Isn't it looking pretty?"</p> + +<p>"I never did see how you could have your garden +right close 't onto the street that way, Anne," was the +reply. "Everybody 't comes by stoppin' and starin', +and pokin' their noses through the fence. Look at +them boys, now! why, if they ain't smellin' at the +roses, the boldfaced brats. Knock at the winder, +Anne, and tell 'em to git out. Shoo! be off with +you!" She shook her fist at the window, but, +fortunately, could not reach it.</p> + +<p>"Hi-hi!" said Anne Peace. "You don't mean +that, Delia. What's roses for but to smell? I do +count it a privilege, to have folks take pleasure in my +garden." She threw up the window, and nodded +pleasantly to the children. "Take a rose, sonny, if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +you like 'em," she said. "Take two or three, there's +enough for all. Whose little boys are you?" she +added, as the children, in wondering delight, timidly +broke off a blossom or two. "Mis' Green's, over +to the Corners! Now I want to know! have +you grown so 't I didn't know you? and how's +your mother? Jest wait half a minute, and I'll +send her a little posy. There's some other things +besides roses, perhaps she'd like to have a few +of."</p> + +<p>She darted out, and filled the boys' hands with +pinks and mignonette, pansies and geraniums.</p> + +<p>It was not a large garden, this of Anne Peace's, +but every inch of space was made the most of. +The little square and oblong beds lay close to the +fence, and from tulip-time to the coming of frost +they were ablaze with flowers. Nothing was allowed +to straggle, or to take up more than its share of +room. The roses were tied firmly to their neat +green stakes; the crown-imperials nodded over a spot +of ground barely large enough to hold their magnificence; +while the phlox and sweet-william actually +had to fight for their standing-room.</p> + +<p>It was a pleasant sight, at all odd times of the +day, to see Miss Peace bending over her flowers, +snipping off dead leaves, pruning, and tending, all +with loving care.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>Many flower-lovers are shy of plucking their +favourites, and I recall one rose-fancier, whose gifts, +like those of the Greeks, were dreaded by his neighbours, +as the petals were always ready to drop before +he could make up his mind to cut one of the precious +blossoms; but this was not the case with Anne +Peace. Dozens of shallow baskets hung in her neat +back entry, and they were filled and sent, filled and +sent, all summer long, till one would have thought +they might almost find their way about alone. It is +a positive fact that her baskets were always brought +back, "a thing imagination boggles at;" but perhaps +this was because the neighbours liked them better +full than empty.</p> + +<p>"Makin' flowers so cheap," Mrs. Means would say, +"seems to take the wuth of 'em away, to my mind; +but I'm too feelin', I know that well enough. Anne, +she's kind o' callous, and she don't think of things +that make me squinch, seem's though."</p> + +<p>Weeks passed on, the broken leg was healed, and +Mrs. Means departed to her own house. "I s'pose +you'll miss me, Anne," she said, at parting, "I shall +you; and you have ben good to me, if 't <i>has</i> ben +kind o' dull here, so few comin' and goin'." (Miss +Peace's was generally the favourite resort of all the +young people of the village, and half the old ones, +but the "neighbouring" had dropped off, since Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +Means had been there.) "Good-by, Anne, and thank +you for all you've done. I feel to be glad I've been +company for you, livin' alone as you do, with no +husband nor nothin' belongin' to you."</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Delia," replied Anne Peace, cheerfully. +"Don't you fret about me. I'm used to being alone, +you know; and it's been a privilege, I'm sure, to do +what I could for you, so long as we've been acquainted. +My love to David, and don't forget to give +him the syrup I put in the bottom of your trunk for +him."</p> + +<p>"'Twon't do him any good!" cried Mrs. Means, +as the wagon drove away, turning her head to shout +back at her hostess. "He's bound to die, David is. +He'll never see another spring, I tell him, and then +I shall be left a widder, with four children and—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, gerlang! gerlang, <i>up</i>!" shouted Calvin Parks, +the stage-driver, whose stock of patience was small; +the horse started, and Mrs. Means's wails died away +in the distance.</p> + +<p>In this instance the predictions of the doleful lady +seemed likely to be verified; for David Means continued +to "fail up." Always a slight man, he was +now mere skin and bone, and his cheerful smile grew +pathetic to see. He was a distant cousin of Anne +Peace's, and had something of her placid disposition; +a mild, serene man, bearing his troubles in silence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +finding his happiness in the children whom he loved +almost passionately. He had married Delia Case +because she was pretty, and because she wanted to +marry him; had never known, and would never +know, that he might have had a very different kind +of wife. Perhaps Anne Peace hardly knew herself +that David had been the romance of her life, so +quickly had the thought been put away, so earnestly +had she hoped for his happiness; but she admitted +frankly that she "set by him," and she was devoted +to his children.</p> + +<p>"Can nothing be done?" she asked the good doctor +one day, as they came away together from David's +house, leaving Delia shaking her head from the doorsteps. +"Can nothing be done, doctor? it doos seem +as if I couldn't bear to see David fade away so, and +not try anything to stop it."</p> + +<p>Doctor Brown shook his head thoughtfully. "I +doubt if there's much chance for him, Anne," he said +kindly. "David is a good fellow, and if I saw any +way—it might be possible, if he could be got off to +Florida before cold weather comes on—there is a +chance; but I don't suppose it could be managed. +He has no means, poor fellow, save what he carries +in his name."</p> + +<p>"Florida?" said Anne Peace, thoughtfully; and +then she straightway forgot the doctor's existence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +and hurried off along the street, with head bent and +eyes which saw nothing they rested on.</p> + +<p>Reaching her home, where all the flowers smiled a +bright welcome, unnoticed for once, her first action +was to take out of a drawer a little blue book, full of +figures, which she studied with ardour. Then she took +a clean sheet of paper, and wrote certain words at +the top of it; then she got out her best bonnet.</p> + +<p>Something very serious was on hand when Miss +Peace put on her best bonnet. She had only had it +four years, and regarded it still as a sacred object, to +be taken out on Sundays and reverently looked at, +then put back in its box, and thought about while she +tied the strings of the ten-year-old velvet structure, +which was quite as good as new. Two weddings had +seen the best bonnet in its grandeur, and three funerals; +but no bells, either solemn or joyous, summoned +her to-day, as she gravely placed the precious bonnet +on her head, and surveyed her image with awestruck +approval in the small mirror over the mantelpiece.</p> + +<p>"It's <i>dreadful</i> handsome!" said Miss Peace, softly. +"It's too handsome for me, a great sight, but I want +to look my best now, if ever I did."</p> + +<p>It was at Judge Ransom's door that she rang first; +a timid, apologetic ring, as if she knew in advance +how busy the judge would be, and how wrong it was +of her to intrude on his precious time. But the judge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +himself opened the door, and was not at all busy, but +delighted to have a chance to chat with his old friend, +whom he had not seen for a month of Sundays. He +made her come in, and put her in the biggest armchair +(which swallowed her up so that hardly more +than the bonnet was visible), and drew a footstool +before her little feet, which dangled helplessly above +it; then he took his seat opposite, in another big +chair, and said it was a fine day, and then waited, +seeing that she had something of importance to say.</p> + +<p>Miss Peace's breath came short and quick, and she +fingered her reticule nervously. She had not thought +it would be quite so dreadful as this. "Judge," she +said—and paused, frightened at the sound of her +voice, which seemed to echo in a ghostly manner +through the big room.</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Peace!" said the judge, kindly. +"Well, Anne, what is it? How can I serve you? +Speak up, like a good girl. Make believe we are back +in the little red schoolhouse again, and you are +prompting me in my arithmetic lesson."</p> + +<p>Anne Peace laughed and coloured. "You're real +kind, judge," she said. "I wanted—'twas only a +little matter"—she stopped to clear her throat, feeling +the painful red creep up her cheeks, and over her +brow, and into her very eyes, it seemed; then she +thought of David, and straightway she found courage,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +and lifted her eyes and spoke out bravely. "David +Means, you know, judge; he is failing right along, and +it doos seem as if he couldn't last the winter. But +Doctor Brown thinks that if he should go to Florida, +it might be so 't he could be spared. So—David +hasn't means himself, of course, what with his poor +health and his large family, and some thought that if +we could raise a subscription right here, among the +folks that has always known David, it might be so 't +he could go. What do you think, judge?"</p> + +<p>The judge nodded his head, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why it couldn't be done, Miss Peace," +he said, kindly. "David is a good fellow, and has +friends wherever he is known; I should think it might +very well be done, if the right person takes it up."</p> + +<p>"I—I've had no great experience," faltered Anne +Peace, looking down, "but I'm kin to David, you +know, and as he has no one nearer living, I took it +upon myself to carry round a paper and see what I +could raise. I came to you first, judge, as you've +always been a good friend to David. I've got twenty-five +dollars already—"</p> + +<p>"I thought you said you came to me first," said +the judge, holding out his hand for the paper. +"What's this? A friend, twenty-five dollars?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anne Peace, breathlessly. "They—they +didn't wish their name mentioned—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, they didn't, didn't they?" muttered the +judge, looking at her over his spectacles. Such a +helpless look met his—the look of hopeless innocence +trying to deceive and knowing that it was not +succeeding—that a sudden dimness came into his +own eyes, and he was fain to take off his spectacles +and wipe them, just as if he had been looking through +them. And through the mist he seemed to see—not +Miss Anne Peace, in her best bonnet and her +cashmere shawl, but another Anne Peace, a little, +brown-eyed, slender maiden, sitting on a brown +bench, looking on with rapture while David Means +ate her luncheon.</p> + +<p>It was the judge's turn to clear his throat.</p> + +<p>"Well, Anne," he said, keeping his eyes on the +paper, "this—this unknown friend has set a good example, +and I don't see that I can do less than follow +it. You may put my name down for twenty-five, too."</p> + +<p>"Oh, judge," cried Miss Peace, with shining eyes. +"You are too good. I didn't expect, I'm sure—well, +you <i>are</i> kind!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all! not at all!" said the judge, gruffly +(and indeed, twenty-five dollars was not so much to +him as it was to "them," who had made the first +contribution).</p> + +<p>"You know I owe David Means something, for +licking him when he—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, don't, Dan'el—judge, I should say," cried +Anne Peace, in confusion. "Don't you be raking up +old times. I'm sure I thank you a thousand times, +and so will Delia, when she—"</p> + +<p>"No, she won't," said the judge. "Tell the truth, +Anne Peace! Delia will say I might have given fifty +and never missed it. There! I won't distress you, +my dear. Good day, and all good luck to you!" and +so ended Miss Peace's first call.</p> + +<p>With such a beginning, there was no doubt of the +success of the subscription. Generally, in Cyrus, +people waited to see what Judge Ransom and Lawyer +Peters gave to any charity, before making their own +contribution. "Jedge Ransom has put down five +dollars, has he? Well he's wuth so much, and I'm +wuth so much. Guess fifty cents will be about the +right figger for me:" this is the course of reasoning in +Cyrus. But with an unknown friend starting off +with twenty-five dollars and Judge Ransom following +suit, it became apparent to every one that David +Means must go to Florida, whatever happened. The +dollar and five-dollar subscriptions poured in rapidly, +till, one happy day, Anne Peace stood in her little +room and counted the full amount out on the table, +and then sat down (it was not her habit to kneel, and +she would have thought it too familiar, if not actually +popish) and thanked God as she had never found it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +necessary to thank Him for any of the good things of +her own life.</p> + +<p>So David Means went to Florida, and his wife and +two children went with him. This had been no part +of the original plan, but at the bare idea of his going +without her, Mrs. Means had raised a shrill cry of +protest. "What? David go down there, and she +and the children stay perishing at home? she guessed +not. If Florida was good for David, it was good for +her, too, and she laid up ever sence spring, as +she might say, and with no more outing than a +woodchuck in January. Besides, who was to take +care of David, she'd like to know? Mis' Porter's +folks, who had a place there? She'd like to know +if she was to be beholden to Jane Porter's folks for +taking care of her lawful husband, and like enough +laying him out, for she wasn't one to blind herself, +nor yet to set herself against the will of Providence." +Doctor Brown stormed and fumed, but Anne Peace +begged him to be quiet, and "presumed likely" she +could raise enough to cover the expenses for Delia +and the two older children. 'Twas right and proper, +of course, that his wife should go with him, and +David wouldn't have any pleasure in the trip if he +hadn't little Janey and Willy along. He did set so +by those children, it was a privilege to see them +together; he was always one to make of children, +David was.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>She did raise the extra money, this sweet saint, +but she ate no meat for a month, finding it better for +her health. Joey and Georgie Means, however, +never wanted for their bit of steak at noon, and grew +fat and rosy under Miss Peace's kindly roof.</p> + +<p>It was a pathetic sight when the sick man took +leave of the little group of friends and neighbours +that gathered on the platform at the station to bid +him farewell. He had lost courage, poor David; +perhaps he had not very much to start with, and +things had gone hard with him for a long time. He +knew he should never see these faces again, this +homely, friendly place. He gazed about with wistful +eyes, noting every spot in the bare little station. He +had known it all by heart, ever since he was a child, +for his father had been station-master. He could +have built the whole thing over, with his eyes shut, +he thought, and now he should never see it again. +Yet he was glad to go, in a way, glad to think, at +least, that he should die warm, as his wife expressed +it, and that his tired eyes were going to look on green +and blossoming things, instead of the cold, white +beauty which meant winter to him.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely ever left Cyrus for more than a +day or two; he had a vague idea that it was not +creditable to go to the other world, and be able to +give so little account of this one. Now, at least, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +should be able to look his seafaring grandfather and +his roving uncle in the face, if so be he should happen +to meet them "over yender."</p> + +<p>He stood on the platform with his youngest child +clasped close in his arms. This was the hardest part +of all, to leave the children. His wife and the two +older children had already taken their places in the +car, and the good-natured conductor stood with his +watch in his hand, willing to give David every second +he conscientiously could. He came from East Cyrus +himself, and was a family man.</p> + +<p>Anne Peace stood close by, holding fast the hand +of little Joey. Strange sounds were in her ears, +which she did not recognize as the beating of her +own heart; she kept looking over her shoulder, to +see what was coming. Her eyes never left David's +face, but they were hopeful, even cheerful eyes. She +thought he would come back much better, perhaps +quite well. Doctor had said there was a chance, and +she did hear great things of Florida.</p> + +<p>And now the conductor put up his watch and +hardened his heart. "Come, David, better step inside +now. All aboard!"</p> + +<p>"Good-by, David!" cried Doctor Brown, waving a +friendly hand.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, David!" cried Anne Peace, lifting little +Joey in her arms, though he was far too heavy for +her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Look at father, Joey dear, throw a kiss to father; +good-by, good-by, David!" The train moved out of +the station, but David Means, his eyes fixed on the +faces of his children, had forgotten to look at Anne +Peace.</p> + +<p>Winter came, and a bitter winter it was. No one +in Cyrus could remember such steady cold, since the +great winter of sixty years ago, when the doctor's +grandfather was frozen to death, driving across the +plains to visit a poor woman. The horse went +straight to the place, his head being turned that way +and his understanding being good; but when the +farmer came out with his lantern, there sat the old +doctor stiff and dead in his sleigh. Those were the +days when people, even doctors, had not learned how +to wrap up, and would drive about all winter with +high, stiff hats and one buffalo robe, not tucked in, +as we have them nowadays, but dropping down at +their feet. There was small chance of our Doctor +Brown's freezing to death, in his well-lined sleigh, +with his fur cap pulled down over his nose and his +fur coat buttoned up to his chin and the great robes +tucked round him in a scientific manner. Still, for +all that, it was a bitter winter, and a good many people +in Cyrus and elsewhere, who had no fur coats, +went cold by day and lay cold by night, as one good +lady pathetically expressed it. There was little snow,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +and what there was fell in wonderful crystals, fairy +studies in geometry, which delighted the eyes of Joey +and Georgie Means, as they trotted to school, with +Miss Peace's "nuby" over one little head and her +shawl over the other. Every morning the sun rose +in a clear sky, shining like steel; every evening the +same sky glowed with wonderful tints of amethyst +and tender rose, fading gradually, till all was blue +once more, and the stars had it all their own way, +throbbing with fierce, cold light.</p> + +<p>It was a great winter for Joey and Georgie! They +never thought of its being too cold, for every morning +their toes were toasted over the fire before schooltime, +as if they had been muffins, and they were sent +off nice and hot, with a baked potato in each pocket, +in case their hands should be cold through the two +pairs of thick mittens which Aunt Peace had provided.</p> + +<p>Then, when they came home, dinner was waiting, +such a dinner as they were not in the habit of having; +a little mutton pie, or a smoking Irish stew, with all +the dumplings and gravy they wanted (and they +wanted a great deal), and then pancakes, tossed before +their very eyes, with a spoonful of jam in the middle +of each, or blanc-mange made in the shape of a cow, +which tasted quite different from any other blanc-mange +that ever was. Also, they had the freedom of +the corn-popper, and might roast apples every evening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +till bedtime. Doctor Brown shook his head occasionally, +and told Anne Peace she would unfit those children +for anything else in life than eating good things; +but it was very likely that was jealousy, he added, +for certainly his medicines had never given the children +these rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes.</p> + +<p>And when bedtime came, and the two little brown +heads were nestled down in the pillows of the big +four-poster in the warm room, Anne Peace would +humbly give thanks that they had been well and +happy through another day, and then creep off to the +cold, little room which she had chosen this winter, +"because it was more handy." Often, when awakened +in the middle of the night by the sharp, cracking +frost noises, which tell of intensest cold, she would +creep in to feel of the children, and make sure that +they were as warm as two little dormice, which they +always were. I do not know how many times she +took a blanket or comforter off her own bed to add to +their store; but I do know that she would not let +Jenny Miller go into her room to see. She almost +rejoiced in the excessive cold, saying to herself with +exultation, "Fifteen below! well, there! and I s'pose +it's like summer in Florida, this minute of time!" +And then she fancied David sitting under an orange-tree, +fanning himself, and smiled, and went meekly to +work to break the ice in her water-butt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p>Every week letters came from David Means to his +children, telling them of the beauty all around him +and wishing they were there. He said little of his +health, but always assured them that Janey and +Willy were real smart, and sent his love to Anne +Peace and his remembrance to all friends at home.</p> + +<p>The letters were short, and each time they grew a +little shorter, till by and by it was only a postal card, +written in a faint and trembling hand, but saying +that the weather was fine, and father was so glad to +get their little letter, and he would write more next +time, but was very busy just now. When she read +one of these, Anne Peace would go away into her +little cold room for a while, and then would come +back smiling and say that now they must write a real +<i>good</i> letter to father, and tell him how well they were +doing at school.</p> + +<p>At last came a week when there was no postal +card; another week, and there came a letter edged +with black and written in Mrs. Means's hand. The +children were at school when it came, and Jenny +Miller, coming in by chance to bring a pot of head-cheese +of her mother's making, found Miss Peace +crouching in the corner of the sofa, weeping quietly, +with the letter lying on her lap.</p> + +<p>"Why, Miss Peace," cried Jenny, frightened at the +sight of tears in those steadfast eyes, "What is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +matter? Do tell me, dear! Why, you're real cold in +here. I do believe the fire has gone out. You've +had bad news, Miss Peace, have you? Do tell me, +that's a dear soul, and don't cry."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anne Peace. "The fire is out, +Jenny, and David is dead."</p> + +<p>She held out the letter, saying something about +"privilege—think—rest;" but Jenny Miller was +already on her knees, putting kindlings into the +stove at a reckless rate. Then, when the fire was +crackling merrily, she ran to fetch a shawl and +wrapped it round the poor trembling shoulders, and +chafed the cold hands in her own warm, young +fingers. But soon Miss Peace grew uneasy; she was +not used to being "done for," having only the habit +of doing for others. She pointed eagerly to the +letter. "Read it, Jenny," she said, anxiously. "I—I +am all right, dear. It's come rather sudden, +that's all, and those poor little children—but read +the letter." The words died away, and Jenny, sitting +down beside her, took the paper and read.</p> + +<p>It began "Friend Anne," and went on to say +that the writer's poor husband died yesterday, and +she was left, as she always knew she should be, a +widow with four children. It did seem to her as if +he might have been let die to home, instead of being +carted all the way down there and then have to send<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +the remains back. She had to promise him she +would send them back, though it did seem a pity +with the beautiful "semetary" they had there, and +full of Northern folks as it would hold and the undertaker +a perfect gentleman, if she ever saw one. But +the widow hoped she knew her duty, and she would +not wish to be thought wanting in anything.</p> + +<p>Now she supposed they would want to know how +David passed away, though she had no "strenth" to +write, not having had her clothes off for days or, you +might say, weeks, nor slep' one consektive hour the +last ten nights. Well, he had seemed to gain a little +when they first came, but it wasn't no real gain, for +he lost it all again and more too. The pounds just +fell off from that man, it seemed as if you could see +them go. The last month he fairly pined away, and +she thought right to let the folks at home know that +he was called to depart, but he wouldn't hear to it. +"He said, Delia, he said, if you want me to die easy, +he said, don't let on to no one at home but what I'm +doing all right." So she set by and held her peace, +though it went against her conscience. Last Monday +he couldn't leave his bed, and she said, "David, she +said, you never will leave it till you're carried," and he +said, p'raps 'twas so, but yet he wouldn't allow it, for +fear of scaring the children. So that night he sat up +in bed and his arms went out and he said "Home!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +just that word, two or three times over, and dropped +back and was gone. There she was, a widow with +four small children, and what she should do she +didn't know.</p> + +<p>Away there in a strange land as you might say, if +it <i>was</i> all one country, it did seem as if them as sent +them might have thought of that and let them stay +at home among their own folks. Not but what there +was elegant folks there. Everybody hed been as kind as +could be; one lady who was in "morning" herself +had lent her a bonnet to wear to the funeral (for she +wasn't one to send the remains off without anything +being said over them); it was a real handsome bonnet, +and she had taken a pattern of it, to have one +made for herself. The lady was from New York way, +and real stylish.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Means intended to stay on a spell, as the +money was not all gone, and her strength needed +setting up, after all she had been through. Mr. +Tombs, the undertaker, said he never saw any one +bear afflicktion so; she told him she was used to it. +He was a perfect gentleman, and a widower himself, +so he could feel for her. Miss Peace might be thankful +that she was never called on to bear afflicktion, +with no one but herself to look out for; not but what +'twas lonesome for her, and Mrs. Means supposed +she'd be glad enough to keep Georgie and Joey on a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +spell longer for company. Tell them they are poor +orphans now, with no father to earn their bread. The +writer wished her husband's remains to be buried in +his father's lot, as she had no money to buy one. +Miss Peace might see if any one felt to put up a +moniment for David; he hadn't an enemy in the +world, and he never begredged a dollar when he had +it to give, for anything there was going. If he had +thought a little more about her, and less about everybody's +cat and dog, she might have something now to +put bread in her children's mouths, let alone her +own. Not that she had any appetite, a flea wouldn't +fatten on what she ate. Lawyer Peters was his +mother's third cousin if she was living. He spent more +on those girls of his than would clothe the writer and +her children for a year.</p> + +<p>The remains went by the same boat with this letter, +so Miss Peace would know when to expect them. +Mrs. Means looked to her to see that David had a +decent funeral; a handsome one she couldn't expect, +folks in Cyrus were close enough about all that didn't +go on their own backs, though she shouldn't wish it +said.</p> + +<p>So now there was no more, from Miss Peace's unfortunate +friend, "the Widow Means."</p> + +<p>After reading this precious epistle, Jenny Miller +found herself, perhaps for the first time in her life, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +nothing to say. She could only sit and press her +friend's hand, and thrill, as a girl will, at the touch +of a sorrow which she only now began dimly to guess. +It was Miss Peace who broke the silence, speaking in +her usual quiet tone.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Jenny, dear! I'm sure it was a privilege, +having you come in just now. David Means +was kin to me, you know, and I always set by him a +great deal; and then the poor little children!" she +faltered again for an instant, but steadied her voice +and went on: "You'd better go home now, dear, for +the fire is going beautiful, and I don't need anything. +I—I shall have to see to things for the funeral, you +know. And don't forget to thank your mother for +the cheese. It looks real good, and Georgie doos like +it the best of anything for breakfast. I guess I'll get +on my bonnet, and go to see Abel Mound, the sexton."</p> + +<p>But here Jenny found her voice, and protested. Miss +Peace should not have anything at all to do with all +that. 'Twasn't fitting she should, as the nearest kin +poor Mr. Means had in Cyrus. Her father would see to +it all, Jenny knew he would, and Doctor Brown would +help him. She would go herself and speak to the doctor +this minute. Miss Peace would have to be here to +tell the children when they came home from school, +poor little things! and that was all she should do +about it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>Anne Peace hesitated; and then Jenny had an +inspiration, or, as she put it in telling Tudie Peaslee +afterwards, "a voice spoke to her."</p> + +<p>"Miss Peace," she said timidly, "I—I don't suppose +you would feel to pick those flowers you were +going to send over to Tupham for the Sunday-school +festival? I know they kind o' lot on the flowers you +send, 'cause they're always so fresh, and you do them +up so pretty. But if you don't feel to do it, I can +send them word, or ask some one else"—</p> + +<p>"The idea!" cried Anne Peace, brightening up. +"I forgot the flowers, Jenny, I did so! I should be +pleased to pick them, and I'll do it this minute. +There—there isn't anything I should like so well. +And I do thank you, dear, and if you really think +your father wouldn't mind seeing—I am sure it is a +privilege to have such neighbours, I always say. +There couldn't anybody be more blessed in neighbours +than I have always been."</p> + +<p>In ten minutes Miss Peace was at work in her +garden, cutting, trimming, tying up posies, and finding +balm for her inward wound in the touch of the rose-leaves, +and in the smell of mignonette, David's favourite +flower. No one in Cyrus had such mignonette as +Miss Peace, and people thought she had some special +receipt for making it grow and blossom luxuriantly; +but she always said no, it was only because she set<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +by it. Folks could most always grow the things they +set most store by, she thought.</p> + +<p>So the Sunday-school festival at Tupham Corner +was a perfect blaze of flowers, and the minister in his +speech made allusion to generous friends in other +parishes, who sent of their wealth to swell our +rejoicings, and of their garden produce to gladden +our eyes; but while the eyes of Tupham were being +gladdened, Anne Peace was brushing Joey's and +Georgie's hair, and tying black ribbons under their +little chins, smiling at them through her tears, and +bidding them be brave for dear father's sake, who +was gone to the best home now, and would never be +sick any more, or tired, or—or sad.</p> + +<p>It was a quiet funeral: almost a cheerful one, the +neighbours said, as they saw the little room filled with +bright flowers (they all seemed to smell of mignonette, +there was so much of it hidden among the roses), and +the serene face of the chief mourner, who stood at +the head of the coffin, with a child in either hand. +It was an unusual thing, people felt. Generally, at +Cyrus funerals, the mourners stayed up-stairs, leaving +the neighbours to gather round the coffin in the +flower-scented room below; but it did not seem +strange in Anne Peace, somehow, and, after the first +glance, no one could fancy any one else standing there. +The old minister, who had christened both David and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +Anne on the same day, said a few gentle, cheering +words, and the choir sang "Lead, kindly Light;" +then the procession went its quiet way to the churchyard, +and all was over.</p> + +<p>Jenny Miller and the doctor followed Miss Peace +home from the churchyard, but made no attempt to +speak to her. She seemed unconscious of any one +save the children, to whom she was talking in low, +cheerful tones. The doctor caught the words "rest," +"home," "happiness;" and as she passed into the +house he heard her say distinctly: "Blessed privilege! +My children now, my own! my own!"</p> + +<p>"So they are!" said Doctor Brown, taking off his +glasses to clear them. "So they are, and so they +will remain. I don't imagine Delia will ever come +back, do you, Jenny?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Jenny, "I don't. She'll marry the +undertaker before the year is out."</p> + +<p>And she did.</p> + +<p class="center">THE END.</p> + + + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3> + +<p>Original spelling and punctuation have been preserved except for the +joining of common contractions.</p> + +<p> +Page 8: Added closing quotes:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(you seemed all right when I went out.")</span><br /> +<br /> + +Page 56: Removed extra quotation mark before I:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">("You are too good. I didn't expect, I'm sure—well, you are kind!")</span><br /> +</p> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's "Some Say", by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK "SOME SAY" *** + +***** This file should be named 27251-h.htm or 27251-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/2/5/27251/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Diane Monico, and The Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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