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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41188 ***
+
+    NARCISSA
+    OR
+    THE ROAD TO ROME
+
+
+    IN VERONA
+
+
+    BY
+
+    LAURA E. RICHARDS
+
+    AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY,"
+    "QUEEN HILDEGARDE," ETC.
+
+
+    ELEVENTH THOUSAND
+
+
+    BOSTON
+    ESTES & LAURIAT
+    1894
+
+
+
+
+    _Copyright, 1892_,
+    BY THE TWO TALES PUBLISHING CO.
+
+    _Copyright, 1894_,
+    BY LAURA E. RICHARDS.
+
+    _Copyright, 1894_,
+    BY ESTES AND LAURIAT.
+
+
+    _All Rights Reserved._
+
+
+    University Press:
+    JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                             PAGE
+
+    NARCISSA                    3
+
+       I. DREAMING              3
+
+      II. WAKING               21
+
+    IN VERONA                  43
+
+
+
+
+NARCISSA.
+
+
+
+
+NARCISSA.
+
+THE ROAD TO ROME.
+
+
+
+
+Part I.
+
+DREAMING.
+
+
+Narcissa was sitting in the doorway, feeding the young turkeys. It was
+the back door of the old gray house,--no one would have thought of
+sitting in the front doorway,--and there were crooked flagstones
+leading up to it, cracked and seamed, with grass growing in the
+cracks. Close by the door-post, against which the girl was leaning,
+stood a great bush of tansy, with waving feathery leaves and yellow
+blossoms, like small gold buttons. Narcissa was very fond of this
+tansy-bush, and liked to pluck a leaf and crush it in her hands, to
+bring out the keen, wholesome smell. She had one in her hand now, and
+was wondering if ever any one had a dress of green velvet,
+tansy-color, with gold buttons. The minister's wife once had a bow of
+green velvet on her black straw bonnet, and Narcissa had loved to look
+at it, and to wish it were somewhere else, with things that belonged
+to it. She often thought of splendid clothes, though she had never
+seen anything finer than the black silk of the minister's wife, and
+that always made her think of a newly-blacked stove. When she was
+younger, she had made a romance about every scrap of silk or satin in
+the crazy-quilt that Aunt Pinker's daughter, the milliner, had sent
+her one Christmas. The gown she had had out of that yellow satin--it
+did her good to think about it even now!--and there was a scrap of
+pale pink silk which came--was it really nothing but fancy?--from a
+long, trailing robe, trimmed with filmy lace (the lace in the
+story-papers was always filmy), in which she had passed many happy,
+dreamy hours.
+
+It never occurred to Narcissa that she needed no fine clothes to set
+off her beauty; in truth, she never dreamed that she had any beauty.
+Color meant so much to her, that she had always accepted the general
+verdict that she was "pindlin'-lookin'," and joined sincerely in the
+chorus of praise which always greeted the rosy cheeks and
+solid-looking yellow hair of Delilah Parshley, who lived at the next
+house below the old gray one.
+
+Yet it was true that Narcissa had no need of finery; and it was a
+pretty picture she made, sitting in the doorway, leaning against the
+door-post. Her hair was nearly black, with no gloss or sparkle, only a
+soft, dusky cloudiness. It curled in little rings about her broad,
+low forehead, and round her soft, pale cheeks. Her eyes were dusky,
+too, but more gray than brown, and the only vivid color was in the
+scarlet line of her lips. There was nothing unhealthy in her clear
+pallor, no hint of sallowness, but a soft, white glow. The nostrils of
+her little straight nose were cut high, which gave them a look of
+being always slightly dilated; this caused the neighbors to say that
+Narcissa White was proud, though dear knew what she had to be proud
+of. As for her dress, it was of blue jean, a good deal faded, but all
+the better for that; and her white apron, though coarse, was spotless
+and carefully starched.
+
+The turkeys seemed to approve of her appearance, for they gathered
+eagerly round her, trying to get their beaks into the dish she held,
+gobbling and fluttering, and making a great commotion. Narcissa was
+fond of the turkeys, and had names for all her favorites. The finest
+young gobbler was called Black Diamond, and he was apt to take unfair
+advantage of his mistress's partiality, and to get more than his
+share. So noisy they all were, that Narcissa did not hear the sound of
+approaching footsteps, nor know that some one had spoken to her twice
+in vain, and was now standing in silent amusement, watching the
+struggle for food.
+
+It was a young man who had come so lightly up the steps of the old
+house that no sound had been heard. He had gone first to the front
+door, but his knock had brought no answer, and catching the flutter
+of Narcissa's apron he had come round to the back porch and was
+standing within three feet of the girl and her clamorous brood.
+
+A very young man, hardly more than a boy, yet with a steady, manly
+look in his blue eyes, which contradicted the boyish curves of cheek
+and chin. He was plainly but neatly dressed, and he carried in one
+hand a small satchel, such as travelling agents affect. His eyes were
+bright and quick, and glanced about with keen interest, taking in
+every outline of the house, but coming always back to the girl who sat
+in the doorway, and who was unlike any girl he had seen before. The
+house was dim and gaunt, with a look of great age. One did not often,
+in this part of the country, see such tall doors, such quaint
+chimneys, such irregular outlines of roof and gable. The green-painted
+front door, with its brass knocker, and its huge, old-world hinges,
+seemed to him a great curiosity; so did the high stone steps, whose
+forlorn dignity suffered perpetual insult from the malapert weeds and
+grasses that laughed and nodded through the cracks and seams.
+
+And in the dim, sunken doorway sat this girl, herself all soft and
+shadowy, with a twilight look in her eyes and in her dusky hair. The
+turkeys were the only part of it all that seemed to belong to the sort
+of life about here, the hard, bustling life of New England
+farm-people, such as he had seen at the other houses along the way.
+If it were not for the turkeys, he felt that he should hardly find
+courage to speak, for fear it might all melt away into the gathering
+twilight,--house, maiden, and all,--and leave nothing but the tall
+elms that waved their spectral arms over the sunken roofs.
+
+As it was, however,--as the turkeys were making such a racket that the
+girl would never become aware of his presence unless he asserted
+himself in some way,--he stepped boldly forward and lifted his hat,
+for he had been taught good manners, if he was a tree-agent.
+
+"Excuse me, lady," he said. "Is this the road to Rome?"
+
+Narcissa started violently, and came out of her dream. She had
+actually been dressed in the green velvet, and was fastening the last
+gold button, ready to step into the chariot that was waiting for
+her,--she loved the word chariot, though the pictures in the Bible
+made her feel uncertain about the manner of riding in one,--and to
+drive along the road, the road to Rome. How strange that at this very
+moment some one should ask about the road!
+
+She raised her eyes, still shining with the dream-light, and looked
+attentively at the stranger.
+
+"Yes, sir," she answered. "This is the road,--the road to Rome. But
+it's a long way from here," she added, rousing herself, and rising
+from her seat. "Shoo! go away, now;" and she waved a signal of
+dismissal with her apron which the turkeys understood, and at sight of
+which they withdrew, not without angry cluckings and gobblings
+directed at the disturber of their evening meal.
+
+"Won't you set down and rest a spell? It's ben real hot to-day, though
+it's some cooler now."
+
+"It has so!" assented the young man, taking off his hat again to wipe
+his brow, and dropping his satchel on the doorstep.
+
+"I should be pleased to set a few minutes, if I'm not intruding. And
+do you suppose I could have a drink of water, if it wouldn't be too
+much trouble?"
+
+Narcissa went away without a word, and brought back the water,
+ice-cold and clear as crystal, in a queer brown mug with a twisted
+handle, and an inscription in white letters.
+
+"I'm sorry I haven't got a glass," she said. "But the water is good."
+
+The young man drank deeply, and then looked curiously at the mug. "I'd
+rather have this than a glass," he said. "It's quite a curiosity,
+ain't it? 'Be Merry!' Well, that's a good sentiment, I'm sure. Thank
+you, lady. I'm ever so much obliged."
+
+"You no need to," responded Narcissa, civilly.
+
+"I--I don't suppose you want any trees or plants to set out, do you?"
+said the stranger. "I am travelling for a house near Portland, and
+I've got some first-rate things,--real chances, I call 'em."
+
+"I--guess not," said Narcissa, with an apprehensive glance over her
+shoulder. "I only keep house for the man here,--he's my father's
+uncle,--and he don't buy such things. I wish"--she sighed, and looked
+longingly at the black satchel. "I suppose you've got roses, have you,
+and all kinds of flowers?"
+
+"I should think so!" replied the youth, proudly. "Our house is the
+greatest one in the State for roses. Let me show you some pictures."
+He opened the satchel and took out a black order-book filled with
+brilliant pictures.
+
+"Oh!" cried Narcissa, "I--I guess I'd better not look at 'em. I don't
+believe he'd like it. Not but what I'm just as much obliged to you,"
+she added, hastily.
+
+But the stranger had already opened the book.
+
+"Just look here, lady," he said. "Why, it can't do no manner of hurt
+for you to look at them. Just see here! Here's the Jacqueminot rose,
+the finest in the world, some folks think. Why, we've got beds and
+beds of it. Splendid grower, and sweet--well there! I can't give you
+any idea of it. Cornelia Cook! that's a great rose nowadays. And
+here's a white blush, that looks for all the world like--"
+
+Here he stopped suddenly; for it was Narcissa's cheek that the rose
+was like, he thought, and it came to him suddenly that he did not want
+to say such things to this girl.
+
+The girl at the house below, when he had paid her compliments, had
+laughed in his face, well pleased, and seemed to ask for more; but she
+was an ordinary girl, like other folks. This soft, shadowy maiden
+might shrink away, and vanish in the dusky porch, if he should touch
+her rudely.
+
+He need have had no fear, for Narcissa would hardly have heard or
+understood his compliment. She was gazing with hungry eyes at the
+bright pictures, drinking in every shade of crimson and scarlet and
+gold.
+
+"Oh, stop!" she cried eagerly. "Oh, may I read about that one? Ain't
+it beautiful! May I?"
+
+"Well, I should think you might!" replied the gallant agent, holding
+the book toward her. "Here, lean right over me; I'd like to read it
+too."
+
+"'This grand rose,'" Narcissa read aloud,"'has created an epoch in
+rose-growing. Of free habit and luxurious growth, the plants form the
+most splendid ornament of garden or hot-house. The beautiful,
+perfectly-shaped flowers show a marvellous blending of colors, in
+which a rich apricot predominates, shading into light pink, bright
+canary, and pale yellow. The outer petals are grandly recurved,
+forming a fine contrast to the Camellia-like inner petals. With its
+rare and exquisite fragrance, its bold and beautiful foliage, and the
+unparalleled profusion with which its splendid blossoms are borne, we
+claim that this rose is absolutely _without a rival_.'"
+
+Narcissa drew a long breath and looked up, her eyes full of awe and
+admiration. "Ain't that elegant?" she said simply. "They have great
+writers there, don't they?"
+
+The youth smiled, as he thought of little Mr. Bimsey, who "got up" the
+catalogues and kept the accounts; then, reminded by this and by the
+fading light that he had still a good way to go before nightfall, he
+added, rising reluctantly from his seat,--
+
+"I must be going, I guess. You haven't any notion how far it might be
+to Rome, have you, lady?"
+
+Narcissa shook her head.
+
+"It's a long way," she said. "When Uncle Pinker goes there with the
+turkeys in the fall, it takes him the whole day to go and come."
+
+"You haven't got a map of the county?" persisted the youth. "I'd ought
+to have one myself, and I guess I shall have to get me one. I'm a
+stranger in these parts."
+
+Narcissa shook her head again. "We haven't got any kind of a map, as I
+know of," she said; but next moment her face brightened. "We've got a
+picture of Rome," she said,--"a real handsome picture. Would you like
+to see it?"
+
+"Well, if it ain't too much trouble."
+
+Narcissa led the way into the house, cautioning the stranger to tread
+softly. "Uncle Pinker is asleep," she said. "He's real old, and he
+sleeps in the afternoon, most times. He's so deef, he wouldn't hear
+you most likely, but you never can count on deef folks. Not but what
+he'd be pleased to see you," she added, with a doubtful look at a
+closed door as she passed it.
+
+"I'd ought to make you acquainted with my name, seem's though," said
+the agent, following her into a dim, dreary room. "My name's
+Patten,--Romulus Patten." He paused, and then went on: "Folks always
+ask how I got my name, so I get into the way of firing right ahead
+before they ask. My mother got it out of the history book. She was a
+great hand for history, my mother was. It seems queer, my going to
+Rome, don't it? They made consid'able fun about it, down to our place,
+but I'm used to that, and don't mind it."
+
+There was no answering gleam in Narcissa's lovely eyes. "Romulus? was
+he in the Revolution?" she asked. "I had to leave school before we got
+through history. I'd only got as far as the Battle of Lexington, when
+Aunt Pinker died, and I had to come and keep house for Uncle Pinker.
+It was real interestin'," she added, with a little sigh of regret, "I
+wish't I could have finished history."
+
+Romulus Patten flushed with shame and anger,--not at the girl, but at
+the sordid people who had kept her in ignorance. He had gone through
+General History himself, and having a good memory, considered himself
+very well up in such matters. When he came back, he thought, perhaps
+he might manage to stop a spell, and tell her a little about things.
+Romulus in the Revolution! it was a scandalous shame, and she so sweet
+and pretty!
+
+But here was the picture of Rome, and Narcissa turning with gentle
+pride to introduce him to it.
+
+"Ain't it handsome?" she cried with enthusiasm. "I do like to look at
+it the most of anything, seem's though. I think you're real fortunate
+to be going there, Mr.--Mr. Patten."
+
+She was silent, gazing with delight that was fresh every time her eyes
+rested on the beloved picture; and Romulus Patten was silent too.
+
+What was it he saw?
+
+A steel engraving, dim and gray, like the house, like the walls on
+which it hung; framed in dingy gold, spotted and streaked. Within, as
+in a dull mirror, appeared towers and temples, columned porticos and
+triumphal arches: the whole seemed to be steeped in pale sunshine; in
+the background rose a monstrous shape which Romulus' practised eye,
+familiar with the illustrations in the General History, recognized as
+the Coliseum. "That's Rome!" said Narcissa, softly. "Ain't it
+elegant?"
+
+The young man glanced at her, with a light of sympathetic amusement in
+his eyes. This was her little joke; he had hardly thought she would
+make jokes, she was so quiet. But the smile faded into a look of
+bewilderment, which quickly strove to efface itself; for Narcissa was
+not in jest. She was gazing at the picture with a rapt look, with
+almost passionate enjoyment. She had forgotten him for the moment, and
+had entered the city of her dreams as she so often entered it, robed
+in velvet and satin (it was the tansy-colored velvet this time, and
+the buttons were very splendid indeed, and she had a bunch of roses in
+her hand), riding in a chariot. She was passing under those wonderful
+arches; that soft, mysterious sunshine wrapped her in a cloud of
+glory. Presently she would meet other beings, splendidly dressed like
+herself, who would greet her with smiles, and tell her of other
+strange and beautiful things that she was going to see. Ah, to be in
+Rome! to be really going there!
+
+"Ain't it handsome?" she repeated, turning her soft eyes on her
+companion. "You're real fortunate to be going there."
+
+Romulus Patten stammered. "You--you're sure that is Rome?" he said.
+"This same Rome, down east here? It don't hardly seem just like a
+down-east place, does it?"
+
+The soft eyes grew wide, and the lips smiled a little. "Why, it says
+so!" said Narcissa. "See here, right under the picture, 'ROME.' So it
+couldn't be any place else, could it?"
+
+"I--I suppose not," murmured Romulus, hanging his head, like one
+found in an unpardonable ignorance.
+
+"I hope to go there some day," the girl went on. "It's never been so I
+could, yet; and folks don't go much from about here. Ain't it queer?
+They'll go the other way, to Tupham, and Cyrus, and other places
+that's just like--like to home here,--" and she gave a little
+disparaging glance along the bleak road, with its straggling willows
+and birches,--"and there's scarcely anybody goes to Rome. And it like
+that!" she added, with another look of loving reverence at the old
+picture.
+
+"You said something about your uncle going," suggested Romulus.
+"Hasn't he ever told you about the place,--whether it's like the
+picture?"
+
+Narcissa shook her head. "I asked him last time he come back," she
+said. "I've asked him two or three times; but all he does is nod his
+head and laugh, the way he has. He ain't one to talk, Uncle Pinker
+ain't. He goes to Rome once every fall, when he kills the turkeys. The
+biggest part of 'em goes the other way, to Tupham and on beyond, but
+he allers takes some portion to Rome. He says they're great on turkeys
+there. I should think they would be, shouldn't you?"
+
+This was a long speech for Narcissa, and she relapsed into silence and
+the picture.
+
+"And you live all alone here with a deef old man who don't talk?"
+said Romulus Patten. "Excuse _me_, Miss--well, you haven't told me
+your name, have you?" and he laughed a little.
+
+"Narcissa," was the reply. "Narcissa White."
+
+"Thank you!" said the well-mannered Romulus. "You live all alone with
+him, and don't see no company? It's lonesome for you, ain't it?"
+
+"I--don't--know," Narcissa answered thoughtfully. "I never thought
+much about it's bein' lonesome. I have the turkeys, and they're a good
+deal of company: and I--I think about things." A faint color stole
+into her clear white cheek, as she remembered the velvet gown. She
+supposed a man would consider such thoughts "triflin'."
+
+"Don't you see anything of the neighbors?" the young man persisted.
+"There's a young lady down at the next house, half a mile below
+here,--wide-awake looking girl, with yeller hair and red cheeks, looks
+some like a geranium; don't you know her?"
+
+"That's Delilah Parshley!" said Narcissa. "She's real handsome, don't
+you think so? No, I don't see her, only to meetin' sometimes. I guess
+she don't care to go much with folks up this way. Her friends is
+mostly the other way, on the Tupham road. Their house sets on the
+corner, you know."
+
+Narcissa did not know--how should she?--that Delilah Parshley and the
+other girls of her sort considered her "a little wanting," because she
+was silent, and never seemed interested in the doings of the
+neighbors, or of such stray travellers as came along the road to Rome.
+She felt kindly toward the Parshleys, as toward all the "meetin'
+folks;" but she rarely held speech with them, and was "gettin' as dumb
+as the old man was deef," the neighbors were beginning to say.
+
+"But haven't you got any folks of your own?" this persistent young man
+went on. "I--I hope I'm not too forth-puttin', Miss White, but I'd
+like to know."
+
+"I'm sure you're real kind to ask!" replied Narcissa, who was not used
+to having any one care to ask her questions.
+
+"Yes, I've got _some_ folks. Father's livin', but he's married again,
+and there's more children, and he was glad to have me find a chance;
+and it was so that I was glad, too," she added, with no resentment in
+her tone, but a touch of sadness, which made the ready color come into
+those tell-tale cheeks of Romulus Patten.
+
+"It ain't right," he said hotly. "I'll be switched if it's right.
+Ain't there a better chance you could get, somewheres round here, if
+you don't feel to go fur away? If you did feel to make a change,
+there's lots of chances down our way. I'd be real pleased to be of
+assistance, if there was any ways I could; I would, now, Miss White."
+
+Narcissa looked a little alarmed.
+
+"You're real good," she said. "But I ain't thinkin' of any change.
+Uncle Pinker means well by me, and the work ain't too hard, 'cept come
+hayin' time, and along through the spring, sometimes, when I have to
+help in the gardin. I'm sure I'm obliged to _you_!" she added
+gratefully, with a shy, sweet look in her eyes that made Romulus feel
+as if the day had grown suddenly warm again.
+
+"Well!" he said, with an effort, "I reely must be going, I suppose.
+I've had a good rest, and I must be getting on."
+
+But Narcissa was not ready to have him go now. Her heart had been
+stirred by the unwonted kindness, the interest which this handsome
+stranger with the kind eyes had shown in her, Narcissa White, who was
+of no account to any one in the world. Her heart was stirred, and now
+she must show her gratitude in such simple wise as she could. She made
+him sit down at the table, and brought him doughnuts and milk, and the
+prettiest apples she could find in the cellar. In fear and trembling
+she took from the cupboard a tumbler of apple jelly, wondering as she
+did so what Uncle Pinker would say, and whether he would call it
+stealing. She had made the sweetmeat herself, and had earned the money
+to buy a half-dozen tumblers, by braiding rugs for Mrs. Parshley. She
+had picked the apples, too. Altogether, she thought she had a right to
+offer the jelly to the kind stranger.
+
+He was delighted with his little feast, and pronounced the jelly the
+best he had ever tasted. She made it herself? he wanted to know! girls
+were smart on the road to Rome, he guessed. He drank her health from
+the brown mug, and again she apologized for not having a glass to give
+him. "There is good glasses," she said with a blush, "but Uncle Pinker
+keeps 'em locked up. I broke one when I first come here, two years
+ago, and he's never let me touch one sence."
+
+Romulus Patten muttered something in confidence to the brown mug, but
+Narcissa did not hear it. She was too happy to think that other people
+might consider Uncle Pinker a mean old curmudgeon. She felt a warmth
+about the heart, wholly strange to her starved and barren life. It had
+been dear and precious to dream, oh, yes! but here was reality. Here
+was some one like the people she dreamed about, only real flesh and
+blood, instead of shadows. He cared, this wonderful person, really
+cared, to be kind to her, to say pleasant words, and smile, and look
+at her with his bright, gentle eyes. And he was going to Rome! that
+was almost the best part of all, for now she could fancy him there,
+and would have some one to speak to, when she made her shadowy
+journeys to the Dream City.
+
+She was hardly sorry when, the simple feast over, her new friend rose
+to go. It could not last forever, and Uncle Pinker would be waking up
+soon, and was apt to be "a little set," as she charitably expressed
+it, when he first woke. She made apologies for not having roused the
+old man, and was sure he would have been "real pleased" to see Mr.
+Patten, if it had been any other time of the day. She was a little
+startled when Romulus held out his hand at parting. She had an idea
+that people only shook hands at funerals; but she laid her little
+brown palm in the warm, strong one held out to her, and felt a cordial
+pressure that brought the tears to her eyes,--the sweet, forlorn gray
+eyes that never guessed at their own sweetness or sadness! Romulus
+Patten looked long into them before he let the little hand go.
+
+"I sha'n't forget you, Miss White," he cried. "You may be sure of
+that; and I hope you won't forget me, either, for a spell. I may
+stop on my way back, if I don't have to go round another way when I
+leave Rome. I'll try my best to fix it so as I can come back this
+way, and then--then perhaps you'll let me call you Narcissa.
+Good-by--Narcissa!"
+
+"Good-by!" echoed Narcissa; and then she stood on the doorstep and
+watched him, her new friend, the first friend she had ever had, as
+looking back often, and waving his hand once and twice in sign of
+farewell, he passed along down the road to Rome.
+
+
+
+
+Part II.
+
+WAKING.
+
+
+"Good mornin', sir; can I sell you anything this mornin'?"
+
+It was a strong, clear voice that broke rudely in upon Uncle Pinker's
+morning meditations as he sat in the doorway (the same setting that
+had framed Narcissa yesterday, but how different a picture!), smoking
+his short black pipe.
+
+"Can I sell you anything?" repeated the voice, with an imperious
+intonation. Uncle Pinker looked up. The sound was a mere murmur in his
+ears; but when he saw the figure before him, he recognized it for one
+he had sometimes seen on the road, and knew instinctively what was
+wanted. "Ga-a-ah!" said Uncle Pinker.
+
+This remark was a favorite one of the old gentleman's, and though no
+one knew its precise derivation, there was no doubt of its being the
+quintessence of scornful refusal. He used it constantly, but it never
+had such bitter force as when he was asked to spend money. "Ga-a-ah!"
+said Uncle Pinker again.
+
+"What might you mean by that?" asked the newcomer, with some asperity.
+"That ain't no form of salutation ever I heard yet. Haven't you a
+civil tongue to use, old gentleman? You're ancient enough to have
+learned manners, if you'll excuse me sayin' so."
+
+The old man snarled again. "I'm stone deef!" he said. "I don't hear
+nothin' you say, nor yet I don't want to hear. You needn't waste no
+time, fur as I'm concerned."
+
+"Stone deef, be you?" returned the pedlar. "Well, that has its
+compensations, too. You wouldn't buy anything if you had the hearin'
+of ten, and now I can have the pleasure of tellin' you what I
+think of you. You skinny, starved old weasel, you're about the
+wickedest-lookin' piece I ever set eyes on. Real old screw, you are,
+if ever I saw one. Pity your folks, if you've got any; more likely
+you've starved 'em all off, though, and are skeered of dyin' yourself,
+fear of havin' another funeral to pay for. The Lord leaves folks like
+you for a warnin' to others, understand?--set up, kind of, to show how
+ugly a critter can be when he tries. Oh, you needn't snarl at me. I'm
+enjoyin' myself real well, I tell you. There's other ways to have a
+good time besides sellin', if it is my trade. Guess I'll set down a
+spell, uncle, sence you _are_ so pressin'."
+
+Uncle Pinker was almost foaming with rage by this time. He could hear
+no distinct words, but the insulting nature of the stranger's speech
+was evident from look and gesture. He was just wondering whether his
+strength would suffice to throw himself on the intruder, when a new
+figure appeared on the scene,--Narcissa, who had been busy in the back
+kitchen, and catching some high note of the stranger's scornful
+speech, now came hurrying out to see what was the matter.
+
+She found Uncle Pinker quivering in his chair, his lean, veined hands
+clutching the arms, his little red eyes starting from his head with
+impotent fury; and sitting on the doorstep, looking up into his face
+with a smile of calm amusement, was the strangest figure Narcissa had
+ever seen.
+
+A person of middle age, with strongly marked features, and a
+countenance of keen intelligence, but dressed in a singular manner. A
+suit of brown cloth, rather worn, but well-brushed and neat; loose
+trousers, and an odd, long-skirted coat, reaching to the knees, both
+coat and trousers trimmed with rows of narrow black-velvet ribbon. The
+person's hair was cropped short; the person's head was surmounted by a
+curious structure, half cap, half helmet, like that worn by Miss
+Deborah in "Cranford," only of far humbler materials. Beside the
+person, on the doorstep, lay a bag, of the kind affected by pedlars,
+lank and shiny, and particularly unattractive in appearance.
+
+Such was the individual at whom Narcissa White was now staring with
+eyes very wide open, her stare being returned by a quizzical gaze,
+half smiling, and wholly shrewd and observant.
+
+"Mornin', young lady," said the strong, clear voice. "Wonderin' what
+I be, are ye? fish or flesh, or red herrin', or what, hey? Well, I'll
+put you out of your misery. I'm a woman, that's what I am; the folks
+calls me Bloomer Joe. Now, then, do you want to buy anything of me?"
+
+Here her tone changed, and her voice rose and fell in a kind of chant,
+dwelling with dramatic emphasis on a telling phrase here and there.
+
+"Buy any lace, threads, or needles, pins--_or_--essences? Here's a
+looking-glass to see your face in--prettiest face I've seen along the
+road! (I tell that to every girl I see, and most of 'em believe it;
+but you ain't that kind, so you shall have the joke instead.) Real
+celluloid ivory combs, fit for the President's wife, sure enough. Gold
+beads, stockin'-supporters, teeth-brushes,--_and_--stickin'-plaster."
+
+Here she dropped back into a conversational tone, opening her bag as
+she did so, and drawing forth some of its treasures.
+
+"Just look at this lace, young lady! strong enough to hang yourself
+with, if you was feelin' that way, or to hang the old gentleman here,
+if you was feelin' another. I know which way I'd feel, quick enough.
+Not your father, is he?" she added, seeing a look of distress in
+Narcissa's eyes.
+
+"Oh, no," said Narcissa, speaking for the first time. "But--he's my
+uncle,--at least, my father's uncle; and I--guess you'd better not
+talk so, please."
+
+"All right," said the stranger. "I won't, not if it is any trouble to
+you. It would be meat and potatoes and apple-pie for me, if he was my
+uncle, to hear him get his rights for once in a way; but I see you're
+one of the soft-hearted ones. Want any salve? Here's a kind that will
+cure corns, bunions, rheumatism, croup, sore-throat, backache,
+horse-ail, and colic; cure most anything except a broken heart, and
+won't do a mite of harm to that. But you don't need any salve, and the
+old gentleman, he's past it. Well, then, here's ribbons, all colors of
+the rainbow,--red, yeller, blue, see? handsome they are, and cheap as
+good counsel. Aha! you'd like to see them, hey?"
+
+Narcissa had indeed changed color at sight of the bright ribbons, and
+she now gave an anxious glance at Uncle Pinker, who was still fuming
+and snorting in his chair.
+
+"You, Narcissy White, send this critter away, can't ye?" he snarled;
+"or else go into the house yourself, and go to work, not stand foolin'
+here, with the work all on the floor. Go 'long, d' ye hear? This
+woman, or feller, or whatever she calls herself, can talk till she's
+hoarse; she won't hurt me, nor she won't get nothin' out of me."
+
+"Could I get a drink of water, do you s'pose?" the pedlar asked
+quietly, paying no attention to the angry old man. "Needn't trouble to
+bring it out; I'll go right into the house with you, if you've no
+objections."
+
+She followed Narcissa into the house before the latter could make any
+remonstrance, and shut the door after her.
+
+"He don't reelly disturb me," she said, "not a mite; but we can trade
+better in here. Let me try some of the ribbons on your hair. I don't
+often see such hair as this on my tramps, and that's no compliment,
+but the plain truth."
+
+"Oh!" cried Narcissa, in distress. "You're real kind, but please
+don't. I haven't got any money to buy things with, and I couldn't take
+your time for nothing. They are handsome, ain't they? Oh, that yellow
+is just elegant, isn't it? It's like the buttons; I mean like the
+tansy blossoms. I thank you for showin' them to me, I'm sure, but it
+ain't any use for you to."
+
+"Don't he pay you for workin' here?" asked the pedlar, with a sharp
+glance.
+
+"Yes, he does pay me," Narcissa answered,--"a dollar and a half a
+week. But--but I don't get it very reg'lar, sometimes, and I'm saving
+up to buy me a dress. I need one bad, to wear to meetin'."
+
+The pedlar frowned. It was against her principles to leave any house
+where she knew there was money, without selling at least a box of
+salve; but this seemed a hard case.
+
+"A dollar and a half a week!" she muttered scornfully. "The old
+caraway seed! he'd better go and live in Rome, and be done with it.
+He'll find plenty of company there."
+
+Narcissa looked up with wide-open eyes.
+
+"Why do you say that?" she asked.
+
+"Because Rome is the skinniest place on this round earth," was the
+reply; "and I think 'twould suit your uncle down to the ground."
+
+Still the girl gazed. "I guess you're mistaken," she said quietly. "I
+guess you never was there, was you?"
+
+"Never till yesterday," replied the woman, "and never want to be there
+again. You see, this isn't my own country at all, as you may say. I
+belong in another part of the State, and most generally keep to my own
+beat, havin' my regular customers, understand? and goin' round amongst
+'em. But oncet in a while the fancy takes me to roam a little, and see
+other parts; and so I come round through Damascus and Solon, and
+passed through Rome yesterday."
+
+"Oh!" cried Narcissa, breathlessly. "You did? do tell me! and wasn't
+it elegant? I don't see how you could come away. Did you walk about,
+and see all them handsome buildings? and did you see the folks?"
+
+The pedlar gazed at her in wonder. The girl's eyes were like stars,
+her whole face alight with enthusiasm. What did it mean?
+
+"Handsome buildin's?" she repeated. "In Rome? I'll tell you what I
+saw, child, and then you'll know. I saw the forlornest place on this
+earth, I don't care where the next may be. I saw rocks and turkeys,
+and turkeys and rocks. The street (if you can call it a street;
+'twould be called a hog-wallow, down where I come from) is solid rock
+where it ain't mud, and solid mud where it ain't rock. There's a house
+here and a house there, and they all look as if they was tryin' to get
+away from each other, but didn't darse to move for fear of fallin'
+down.
+
+"The folks I saw were as lean as their own turkeys, and I can't say no
+further than that. I tried to sell 'em some of my salve; told 'em
+'twould heal the skin where 'twas broke with the bones comin' through,
+but they was past jokin' with.
+
+"I tell you, child, Rome is the--Why, what's the matter?" The good
+woman stopped suddenly, for Narcissa was trembling all over, and her
+face shone white in the dim, half-lighted room.
+
+"I--I don't understand you!" she cried wildly. "There's some mistake;
+you went to the wrong place, and never saw Rome at all. Look here!"
+and she led the way swiftly across the hall, into the other room, the
+room into which she had taken Romulus Patten the day before. She
+almost ran up to the picture, and motioned the pedlar, with an
+imperious gesture, strange in so gentle a creature, to look at it.
+"That is Rome!" cried Narcissa. "You went to the wrong place, I tell
+you. This--this is Rome!"
+
+The woman drew out a pair of spectacles, and fitted them on her nose
+with exasperating deliberation. She took a long look at the picture,
+and then turned to the trembling girl, with a kind light of pity in
+her eyes struggling with amusement.
+
+"You poor--deluded--child!" she said at length. "Who ever told you
+that was Rome, I should like to know?"
+
+"But it says so!" cried Narcissa. "Can't you read? 'ROME.' There it
+is, in plain letters; and I--don't--" she wanted to say "I don't
+believe you!" but the blue eyes that met hers steadily showed nothing
+but truth and kindness.
+
+"So it is Rome, dear!" said the pedlar, speaking now very gently. "But
+it's ancient Rome, over in Europe; Italy, they call the country. Where
+the ancient Romans lived, don't you know? Julius Cæsar, and all those
+fellers who cut up such didoes, hundreds of years ago? Don't tell me
+you never went to school, nor learned any history."
+
+"I--I went for a spell!" Narcissa faltered. "I had to leave when I was
+fourteen, because I was wanted to home, and we hadn't only got to the
+Battle of Lexington in history. I did hope to learn about the
+Revolution, to home, but father's wife didn't think much of readin',
+and she burned up the book."
+
+There was a silence, and then the good-natured pedlar began fumbling
+in her bag.
+
+"It's a livin' shame!" she cried indignantly. "Here--no, it ain't,
+neither. Well! I did think, much as could be, that I had two or three
+little books here, and I should have been pleased to give you one,
+dear, just for keeps, you know. But they don't seem to be here. Well,
+never mind! I was goin' to ask if you wouldn't like this piece of
+yeller ribbon you seemed to take to. It's a real good piece, and I
+should be pleased--I declare, child, I do feel bad to have spoiled
+your pretty notion of Rome. I s'pose you thought likely you'd go there
+some day, hey? well, well! sit down, and let me put this ribbon on
+your hair. You no need to be scairt of me. I act kind o' wild
+sometimes, like I did with your uncle, but it's four parts fun. I'm
+well known up our way, and anybody'll tell you I come of good stock,
+if I am crazy enough to wear sensible clothes, that don't hender me
+walkin' nor settin'. Mis' Transom, my name is. And he called you
+Narcissy, didn't he? Why, I had a cousin once, name of Narcissy; it's
+not a common name either, and I allers thought it was real pretty. Set
+down here, dear, and let's talk a spell."
+
+Thus the kind woman rattled on, watching the girl keenly the while.
+She was making time for her, giving her a chance to recover from what
+was evidently a heavy blow.
+
+But Narcissa scarcely heard her. She was dazed; her dream was
+shattered, her glorious city laid in ruins, the beauty and romance of
+her whole life dashed away, as a rude touch dashes the dew from the
+morning grass.
+
+As she sat, trying to realize it, trying to think that it really was
+not so much, that there would be other pleasant things, perhaps, to
+fill the barren working days, and gild the grayness of the long lonely
+Sabbaths,--as she sat thus, a new thought flashed into her mind,
+piercing like the thrust of a sword.
+
+Her friend, Romulus Patten! She had sent him off on a false scent, had
+lied to him about the place, the city--she could hardly bear even to
+think of its dishonored name now. He had gone there, thinking to find
+what she had told him about,--the stately houses, the arches, the soft
+sunshine gilding all. What would he think of her when he found it was
+all a cheat, a lie? He had been kind to her, had seemed to care about
+her as nobody had ever done in her forlorn young life; and this was
+how she had repaid him!
+
+She started up, shrinking as if from some cruel sting. "I must go and
+tell him!" she cried. "I lied to him, though I didn't know it was a
+lie. I must go and find him, and tell him I didn't mean to."
+
+"Tell who?" cried the pedlar, catching her by the arm. "What is it
+troubles you so, Narcissy? Who did you lie to, I should like to know?
+Don't believe she could tell a decent lie if 'twas to save her own
+soul," she added to herself.
+
+But Narcissa did not heed her.
+
+She had taken down her sunbonnet from a nail, and was tying it under
+her chin with trembling fingers, with a feverish haste that took no
+note of anything.
+
+"Where are you going?" cried Mrs. Transom, now beginning to be
+frightened at the girl's distracted looks. "You're never going out of
+the house feeling like this? You'll have a fit of sickness, sure as
+you're alive, and then where'll you be? and 'tis all foolishness, too,
+I'll be bound. I can't understand a word you say. And there's a storm
+coming up, too. I see it as I was coming along, and was reckoning on
+finding shelter here when I fust stopped to speak to the old
+gentleman. There, hear the thunder this very minute! Narcissy! Why,
+good land of deliverance, she's gone!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The storm came on very suddenly,--first, a low bank of cloud heaving
+in sight on the western horizon, long and misshapen, like the back of
+a kraken; then the whole monster revealed, rising across the sky,
+tossing monstrous arms about, showing ugly tints of yellow, ugly
+depths of purple and black.
+
+There was no lightning at first, only low mutterings of thunder, and
+every now and then a pale lifting of the darkness, as if the monster
+were opening his cavernous jaws, showing glimpses of dim horror
+within. Then, of a sudden, with no note of warning, the whole sky
+sprang into flame, the whole air was a roar and a bellow, deafening
+the ears, stunning the senses,--and the storm broke over the road to
+Rome.
+
+The rain struck aslant, driving a spray before it, as of a mountain
+stream. In five minutes no road was to be seen,--only a long stretch
+of brown water, hissing and writhing under the scourge of the rain and
+wind. A horse came plodding carefully along, crouching together as
+well as he could, picking his way through the water. The two men in
+the buggy behind him were crouching, too, and trying to hide behind
+the rubber boot. It was some comfort to think that they were trying to
+keep dry, though both knew that they were already drenched to the
+skin.
+
+"It's lucky for me that I met you," said the younger of the two,
+shaking himself, and sending a shower of spray in all directions.
+
+"P'r'aps 'tis just as well," replied the other man, with a chuckle.
+"You'd hardly have known yourself from a muskrat by this time, if
+you'd had to foot it from Rome here. Been stoppin' there?"
+
+"Stopping as long as I cared to," said the youth, who was no other
+than our friend Romulus Patten. "I got there last night, and was good
+and ready to come away this morning. I'm travelling for Brown's
+Nurseries, and there don't seem to be any call for any of our goods in
+Rome. Stone-crop's the only plant they raise much of, I guess."
+
+"Well, that's so," said the elder man. "That's so, every time. I never
+knew but one man that could make anything grow in Rome, and he carted
+all the dirt three miles, over from North Podley, before he could make
+a seed grow. Yes, sir, he did so. Mighty poor country up that way.
+Some say the Rome folks don't see any garden-truck from year's end to
+year's end, and that if you ask a Rome girl to cook you up a mess of
+string beans, she takes the store beans and runs 'em on a string, and
+boils 'em that way; but I dono. I'm from Vi-enny way myself."
+
+"My gracious! what's that?"
+
+The whole world had turned to livid white for a moment, dazzling and
+blinding them; but still they had seen something on the road,
+something like a human form, torn and buffeted by the wind and the
+furious rain, but staggering on towards them with uncertain steps.
+
+"My God! it's a woman!" cried Romulus Patten. "Stop your horse, and
+let me get out. A woman, alone in this storm!"
+
+He sprang to the ground, and holding his arm before his face to keep
+off the blinding rain, made his way towards the forlorn figure
+splashing through the water, now ankle deep in the road, stumbling,
+often on the point of falling.
+
+"Hold up, lady!" he called out, in his cheery voice. "There's friends
+here! Hold up just a minute!"
+
+At the sound of his voice the woman stopped and seemed to shudder and
+clasp her hands. "I never meant it!" she cried out wildly. "I can't
+see you, I'm most blind, but I know your voice. I never meant to lie
+to you about Rome. I--thought--'twas all true; and when I found out,
+I--came--to tell you. I never meant to send you there on a lie."
+
+"Narcissa!" cried Romulus Patten. "Oh, Lord! Oh, you poor little
+thing! and you thought I didn't know? I'd ought to be shot, that's
+what I ought to be. Here, you poor little thing, let me take your
+hands! They're like wet ice, and you're shivering all over. Oh, dear
+me! come with me, and get right into this buggy out of the rain. Oh,
+Lord! and I let you go on thinking I didn't know!"
+
+Half leading, half carrying her, he made his way to the buggy, and
+then fairly lifted her in his strong young arms to lay her on the
+seat; but here an obstacle was interposed in the shape of another arm
+as strong as his, and a good deal bigger. "Easy, there!" said the
+owner of the buggy. "Seems to me you're makin' yourself rather too
+free, young feller. Do you think I'm goin' to have that gal brought in
+here, runnin' all the rivers of Babylon? Who in Jerusalem is she,
+anyway? Some of your folks?"
+
+Romulus Patten's face was streaming with cold rain, but he flushed as
+if a flame had swept over him.
+
+"She's the young lady I'm going to marry," he said. "Will you take
+her in, or shall I carry her home this way?"
+
+"Now you're talking!" the stranger said, removing his arm and making
+way. "Why didn't you speak up before, sonny? Here, give me a holt of
+her!" He lifted Narcissa gently into the buggy, and drew her close to
+his side, laying her head well up on his shoulder so that she could
+breathe easily. "Family man," he explained. "Gals of my own. Now you
+reach under the seat there, and bring out a shawl you'll find."
+
+Romulus obeyed, and half angry, half pleased, watched the stranger as
+he deftly wrapped the shawl round the fainting girl, and put her
+dripping hair tenderly off her face.
+
+"Allers take a shawl along," he explained further. "Wife enjoys poor
+health, and have to be ready for a change of wind. Comes in handy,
+don't it? Now get in, young feller, and tell me where to drive to. You
+needn't look down in the mouth, either, 'cause you don't know
+everything in creation yet. Time enough to learn, and you're likely to
+learn easy, I should say.
+
+"And you rest comfortable, my dear," he added, speaking to Narcissa as
+if she were a small child. "Here's your friend alongside of you, and
+you're just as safe as you would be in the best stuffed chair in the
+settin'-room at home. Fetch your breath, like a good girl, and try to
+look about you."
+
+But Narcissa heard never a word, for she had fainted.
+
+An hour later, Romulus Patten and Mrs. Transom were sitting by
+Narcissa's bedside, watching her. She had fallen into a deep,
+childlike sleep, and their low voices did not disturb her.
+
+"The old gentleman was so mad he was all cheesed up," the pedlar was
+saying. "There! I was fairly sorry for him, old weasel as he is; so I
+let him go on for a spell, till he was clean tuckered out, and then I
+e'en took him up and put him to bed, same as if he was a child. Glad
+enough he was to get there too, if he was mad. Then I took and made
+him some warm drink, and gave him to understand I'd stay by till
+Narcissy come back, and here I be. And now, young man," she added,
+fixing her keen blue eyes on Romulus's face, "I've got a word to say
+to you. You let fall something when you was bringin' this child in--I
+won't say that I wasn't mighty glad to see her, and you, too,--but you
+let on something about keepin' company with her. Now, I want to know
+right here, what you meant, and who you are, and all about it. Oh, you
+may look at my pants much as you're a mind to. I come of good folks,
+and I dress as seems fit to me, and I don't care in any way, shape, or
+manner what folks say or think. I've been snoopin' round some, since I
+put that old man to bed, and I found the family Bible; and this child
+is the lawful daughter of my cousin, Narcissy Merrill, that I haven't
+heard of this twenty years. Bein' so, I'm goin' to stand by her, as is
+right and proper; so, now I'll hear what you've got to say. I've as
+good a right to do for her as that old skimp-jack in there, if he is
+her father's uncle."
+
+Romulus Patten spoke out frankly. He had "taken to" Narcissa from the
+first moment he saw her. When was that? Well, it wasn't long ago, it
+was true. It was only yesterday; but he wasn't one to change, and he
+had never seen a girl yet that he would look twice at. And when she
+came, in all that awful storm, just to tell him,--here the young man
+choked a little, and the woman liked him the better for it,--he made
+up his mind then, he went on, all in a minute, that she should be his
+wife; and she should, if so be she was willing. He would go back to
+the place and see if he could get a job in the garden; he might have
+had one now, but he was some tired and had thought it would rest him
+to travel a spell. He would quit travelling now, and had little doubt
+that he could have a good place.
+
+He knew of a pleasant rent--in that part of the country a hired
+tenement is known as a "rent"--with four rooms, that belonged to a
+friend of his, and he could get that, he guessed. In short, the sooner
+Narcissa got away from Uncle Pinker the better, in his opinion, and he
+was ready to take her, the first day she would go. That was all he
+had to say for himself; but he presumed Mr. Brown would give him a
+character if he was asked. He had worked for Browns three years, and
+had no reason to think they weren't satisfied with him.
+
+When Romulus had finished his little speech, which left him flushed
+and tremulous, yet with a brave light in his eyes, and a tender look
+as he glanced towards his love where she lay sleeping quietly, Mrs.
+Transom gazed at him for a while in silence; then she held out her
+hand and grasped his heartily.
+
+"I guess you'll do," she said. "I guess you're the right sort. Now,
+I'll tell you what. You go along and get your place, and see about
+your rent. Don't engage it, but get the refusal of it, if it belongs
+to a friend, as you say. Then you come back here and find your girl
+all well and peart again, and you say your say, and let her say hers.
+You don't want to take advantage of her being sick and weakly
+now--now, you no need to flare up! I say you don't want to, and I mean
+it. You'll need a box of my salve, if you're so thin-skinned as all
+that comes to.
+
+"You go along, I say, and when you come back, come over to my place,
+Tupham Corner, third house from the cross-road, white house with a
+yeller door. Everybody knows Mis' Transom's house. You'll find your
+gal there, and you'll marry her there, with her mother's cousin to
+stand up with her. There, don't be scairt! Pity some gals haven't got
+the trick of blushin' as you have, young man. I've got as good a black
+silk as any in Tupham or Cyrus, and nobody's goin' to say 'Bloomer
+Joe' round where my own folks live, you'd better believe. What say?
+Like my idee, or have you got a better one yourself?"
+
+"You're real good!" Romulus cried. "Poor little Narcissa! It does seem
+as if she had found all her friends at once, and she never having any
+in her life before, as you may say. I tell you, Mis' Transom, I'll
+treat her as well as I know how. If she was a queen, she shouldn't
+have any more care than what I'll give her. I--I think a sight of
+her!" he added simply. "Seems as if she always belonged to me,
+somehow."
+
+"That's right!" said Mrs. Transom, who was as romantic as any lady in
+silk and satin. "That's right, young man. We'll get her away from this
+old rathole, and then I guess it'll be a good while before either you
+or I travels this way again, hey?"
+
+"I don't know as I have anything to say against the country," said
+Romulus Patten, with another loving look at the sleeper. "It isn't
+exactly the place to sell trees, but yet there's good things to be
+found on this road,--the road to Rome."
+
+
+
+
+IN VERONA.
+
+
+
+
+IN VERONA.
+
+
+First of all, let me correct the mistaken impression that my title
+cannot fail to make upon the patient reader. On reading the words, "In
+Verona," his mind instantly conjures up a vision of white palaces; of
+narrow streets across which the tall houses nod at each other, hinting
+at the mysteries they dare not reveal; of ancient fountains, embowered
+in myrtle and laurel; finally, of Juliet's tomb, and a thousand
+memories of the immortal lovers.
+
+All this is natural, but it will not do. Here in Verona are no
+fountains, but half a dozen old well-sweeps, and all the rest
+cucumber-wood pumps; no palaces, but neat white houses with green
+blinds, and flowers in their front-yards; no laurel, but good honest
+sunflowers instead; finally, no tomb of Juliet, for our Juliet did not
+die; briefly, and to have done with mystery, our Verona is in the
+State of Maine.
+
+I have often wondered what manner of men they were, who named the
+towns in the good old State. Lyceum teachers for the most part, one
+would think,--men who had read books, and whose hearts yearned for
+the historic glories of the old world, glories which their narrow
+lives might never see. So, disagreeing with this same Juliet in the
+matter of names, they did what they could, and not being able to go to
+Europe, did their best to bring Europe over into their own new
+country. So we have here in Maine Rome and Paris, Palermo and Vi-enny
+(miscalled "Vienna" by pedants, and those thinking themselves better
+than other people), Berlin Falls and South China,--in fact, half the
+continent to choose from, all in our own door-yard, as it were.
+
+You may not find Verona on the county-map; you certainly will not see
+it as you flash by on the Maine Central Railway, on your way to Bar
+Harbor. But if you travel for a certain length of time on a certain
+quiet road, grass-grown for the most part, and with only a few
+straggling cottages dotting it here and there,--if, as I say, you
+travel long enough, and do not get out of patience and turn back
+towards Vi-enny, you will come suddenly round a bend of the road, and
+there will be Verona before you, all white and smiling, tucked away
+under the great hill-shoulder that curls lovingly round it. The
+cleanest, freshest, sleepiest little New England village! No myrtle,
+no laurel, not the faintest suggestion of a fountain! Yet here lived
+and loved, not so very long ago, Romeo and Juliet.
+
+They were simple young people; they did not even know their own
+names, for Juliet answered to the name of Betsy Garlick, while Romeo
+was known only as Bije Green; and they worked for the Bute girls.
+
+It is well known that the Bute girls--who might better be spoken of,
+if the custom of the country allowed it, as the Misses Bute--did not
+speak to each other. They lived in two white cottages, side by side,
+on the Indiana road; and though they could not avoid seeing each other
+every day, no communication had taken place between them since the
+time of their mother's death, some ten years ago. Old Mrs. Bute had
+been partly responsible, all the neighbors thought, for this
+unfortunate state of things. She was a masterful woman, and never
+allowed her daughters to call their souls their own, even when they
+were middle-aged women. Though both gifted with strong wills, they
+lived in absolute subjection to the small withered autocrat who hardly
+ever stirred from her armchair in the chimney-corner.
+
+She persisted in treating her daughters, either of whom could have
+picked her up with one hand and set her on the mantelpiece, as if they
+were little children; and they accepted the position with meekness.
+
+It was even said that when Mrs. Bute felt called on to die, as we say
+in Verona, she insisted on having her daughters' mourning made and
+tried on in her presence, that she might be sure of its being
+respectable, and fitting properly. "Neither one of you has sense to
+know when a gown wrinkles in the back," she said. "I couldn't lay easy
+in my grave, and you going round all hitched up between the
+shoulders."
+
+So the village dressmaker cut the clothes (black stuff dresses, and
+black cambric pelisses lined with flannel), and came in fear and
+trembling to try them on. It must have been a grim scene: the two
+gaunt, middle-aged women standing meekly before the bed, turning this
+way and that at command; the dying woman issuing, in halting whispers,
+her directions for "seam and gusset and band," while death had her by
+the throat, fitting her for the straight white garment which was
+making in the next room. Not till she had seen her daughters arrayed
+in the completed costumes, with bonnet and veil to match, would Eliza
+Bute turn her face to the wall and go, feeling that she had done her
+duty.
+
+Perhaps it was hardly to be wondered at, if, so soon as the iron grasp
+was loosened which had held them all their days, the two women went to
+the other extreme, and could brook no suggestion of authority from any
+one, least of all from each other. Perhaps each was sure that Mother
+(awful shade, still hovering on the borders of their life!) would be
+of her way of thinking; however it was, the two sisters quarrelled the
+day after the funeral. The will was read, and it was found that the
+property was to be evenly divided between them. Evenly divided! It was
+a dangerous phrase. Miss Duty had her idea of what "even" meant, and
+Miss Resigned Elizabeth had hers; and neither was likely to give up to
+the other. They listened in grim silence as the lawyer read the will;
+and each decided that she knew what Mother meant, and 'twasn't likely
+the other did.
+
+The strife that followed was grim, though not loud. No wrangling was
+heard; no neighbor was called in to keep the peace; but after three
+days, Miss Resigned Elizabeth sent for a man and a wheelbarrow, and
+removed with all her goods and chattels to the house next door, which
+was hers by right of inheritance from her grandmother.
+
+A neighbor calling on Miss Duty the day after the separation, found
+her in the spare chamber, seated before the bed, on which were spread
+out divers articles of the personal property which had been her
+mother's. There was one black lace mitt, six white stockings and six
+gray ones, half of an embroidered apron, ditto of a nankeen waistcoat
+in which Father Bute had been married; item, one infant's sock; item,
+three left-hand shoes. Here, on what was evidently the half of a green
+veil, lay a slender store of trinkets: one mosaic earring, one garnet
+one, half of a string of gold beads, and--piteous sight!--half of a
+hair bracelet, its strands, roughly cut, already half unbraided, and
+sticking out in silent protest against the inhuman treatment they had
+received.
+
+The neighbor broke out into indignant inquiry, but was quickly
+silenced. Miss Duty was satisfied, and so was her sister; that being
+so, she didn't know that the neighbors had any call to be distressed.
+Good Mrs. Dill went home in high indignation, and before night all
+Verona knew how "ridiklous" the Bute girls had behaved, and joined
+with Mrs. Dill in thinking that Old Ma'am Bute had better have left
+them a "gardeen," if that was all they knew about how to treat good
+stuff, as had cost more money than ever they were likely to earn.
+
+When Bije Green came to work for Miss Duty Bute, he knew nothing of
+the feud between the two houses. He was not a Veronese, but came from
+that mysterious region known as "out back," meaning the remote
+country. When, working in the garden, he saw on the other side of the
+fence an old woman (any person above thirty was old to Bije) who
+looked almost exactly like the old woman who had hired him, it seemed
+the proper thing to say "hullo!" to her, that being the one form of
+salutation known to Bije; but instead of an answering "hullo!" he met
+a stony stare, which sent him back in confusion to his potatoes.
+"She's deef!" said Bije to himself, charitably. "And my old woman's
+nigh about dumb,--quite an asylum between 'em." And he whistled "Old
+Dog Tray" till Miss Duty came and told him to stop that racket!
+
+Poor Bije! he found life dull, at first, on the Indiana road. He was
+shy, and not one to make acquaintances easily, even if Miss Duty had
+approved of his running down to the village, which she did not. But he
+was used to cheerful conversation at home, and felt the need of it
+strongly here. His innocent attempts at entertaining Miss Duty were
+generally met with a "H'm!" which did not encourage further remarks.
+"Nice day!" he would say in a conciliating manner, when he brought in
+the wood in the early morning. "H'm!" Miss Duty would reply, with a
+frosty glance in his direction.
+
+"Havin' nice weather right along!"
+
+If he met with any reply to this suggestion, it would be a "H'm!" even
+more forbidding; while a third remark, if he ever ventured on one,
+would be answered by swift dismissal to the woodshed, with the
+admonition not to be "gormin' round here, with all the work to do."
+
+These things being so, Bije was sad at heart, and pined for a certain
+corner of the fence at home, and his sister Delilah leaning over it,
+talking while he hoed. Delilah was only a girl, but she could be some
+company; and what was the use of having a tongue, if you never used
+it, 'cept just to jaw people? Jawing never did no good that he could
+make out, though he didn't know but he'd ruther be jawed than hear
+nothing at all from get up to go to bed.
+
+Such thoughts as these were in Bije's mind one morning, as he
+wrestled with the witch-grass on the strip of green near the fence
+which divided Miss Duty's lot from her sister's. He did not like
+witch-grass; he never could see the use of the pesky stuff. Delilah
+was always saying that there was use for everything; Bije wished she
+were here, to tell him the use of witch-grass. He guessed--At this
+moment the tail of his eye caught a flutter, as of a petticoat, beyond
+the dividing fence. Now Miss Resigned Elizabeth's petticoats never
+fluttered; they were not full enough. Bije looked up, and saw--a girl.
+
+She was standing in the porch, polishing the milk-pails. She had
+curly, fair hair, which she kept shaking back out of her eyes,--blue
+eyes, as bright as the little pond at home, when the sun shone on it
+in the morning. The red-and-white of her cheeks was so pure and clear,
+that Bije thought at once of a snow-apple; and his hand made an
+instinctive movement towards his pocket, though it was not near the
+time for "snows." There was not much wind, and yet this girl's things
+seemed "all of a flutter;" her pink calico gown, her blue-checked
+apron, her flying curls,--all were full of life and dancing motion.
+The milk-pails twinkled in the morning sun, catching fresh gleams as
+she turned them this way and that. They were not common milk-pails, it
+appeared, but pure silver, or they could not twinkle so. Also, the sun
+was brighter than usual. Bije stood gazing, with no knowledge that his
+mouth was open and his brown eyes staring in a very rude way. The
+witch-grass took breath, and rested from the fierce assaults of the
+hoe. Bije knew nothing of witch-grass. He had never heard of such a
+thing. There were only two things in the whole world, so far as he
+knew: a milk-pail and Betsy Garlick.
+
+When Betsy looked up, as of course she did in a moment, she saw no
+fairy vision, but only a boy: a brown boy, in brown overalls, with his
+mouth open, staring as if he had never seen a girl in his life before.
+Betsy had seen plenty of boys, and she was not in the least afraid of
+them; so she returned Bije's stare with a calm survey which took him
+all in, from his conscious head to his awkward heels, and then, with a
+toss of her curls and a click of pails, disappeared into the house.
+
+All that day, Bije went about in a dream. When Miss Duty asked him
+what he had been doing all the morning, he answered "Milk-pails;" and
+when she asked what they used to keep off potato-bugs out his way, he
+could only say "Pink calico." At this atrocious statement, Miss Duty
+turned sharply on him. "Bijah Green," she said, "if you are goin'
+loony, I'll thank you to take yourself off home. I don't want no
+naturals round here, so now you know."
+
+Bije was terribly frightened at this. Yesterday it would have been
+rather a good joke to be discharged by the old lady, and go home to
+the farm with a month's wages in his pocket; to-day, it seemed the
+most dreadful calamity that could happen to him; and he hastened to
+give such an eloquent description of the potato-bug war, as carried on
+in West Athens (pronounced Aythens) that Miss Duty was mollified, and
+reckoned she must try paris green herself. When evening came, Bije
+went early for his cow, and milked that good beast with undue haste
+and trepidation. Then, having carried the brimming pails into the
+kitchen, he returned to the shed, and looked about him with gleaming
+eyes. Yes, there it was! the knot-hole that he had found the other
+day, when he was brushing down the cobwebs,--just opposite the
+back-porch of the house across the way. She would be coming out again
+in a minute; it wasn't likely that she had done milking yet. He drew
+up a broken stool, and seating himself on it, flattened his face
+against the rough boards of the shed, and waited. The door of the
+house across the way opened, and Miss Resigned Elizabeth came slowly
+out. She was younger than Miss Duty, but she looked older, being
+near-sighted, and walking with a stoop and a shuffle. She was rather
+good-looking, with soft brown hair, and a little autumnal red in her
+thin cheeks; but to Bije's distorted vision, she seemed the most
+horrible old hag that had ever darkened the earth. Her scant gray
+skirt (made out of her half of a dress of Mother Bute's, who wore her
+skirts full), her neck-handkerchief, her carpet slippers, all were an
+offence to him; and he could hardly resist the impulse to call out to
+her to take herself out of his field of vision, and leave it clear for
+the desired one. The dreadful old woman! how she stood round, as if
+folks wanted to see her, instead of wishing she was in Jericho. She
+was actually sitting down, taking out her old knitting! Such things
+ought not to be allowed. There ought to be a law against ugly
+women--Hark! what was that? Miss Resigned Elizabeth was calling to
+somebody,--to somebody in the house. "Betsy! Betsy Garlick! come out
+here, will you?"
+
+Why, this was not such a horrid old lady after all. Now he thought of
+it, she was rather nice-looking, for an old one. The door was opening,
+opening wider. There she came with her pails. The wonderful girl! not
+flashing and sparkling, as in the morning light, but with the softness
+of twilight in her eyes and her lovely waving hair. What was it the
+other lad said, over there in the old Verona, at a minute like this?
+
+    "Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
+    Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night
+    Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear!"
+
+and so on, in his glowing, tropical way. But Bije could not say
+anything of that sort. His heart was as high as Borneo's, and seemed
+to be beating in his throat, as he gazed at the fair vision; but he
+knew nothing of language, and if he had tried to put his thoughts
+into words, he would only have said: "Ain't she slick!" A most
+un-Shakespearian Bije! an ordinary, good country-boy! But no fiery
+gallant of them all was ever thrilled with purer fire than burned now
+in his veins. He wanted to do something, something wonderful, for this
+girl. What did all those fellers do, in the story-books Delilah was
+everlastingly reading? He wished he had read some of the stories,
+instead of laughing at them for girl's fool-talk. She was smiling now;
+did anybody ever smile like that before? Of course not! He wished he
+were Miss Resigned Elizabeth, to be smiled at in that way; he wondered
+what it felt like. But no! the poor old lady was deef! (she was not in
+the least deaf, be it said, by the way). Deef, and that girl talking
+to her! Poor old lady! It was a dreadful thing to be deef.
+
+And so on, and so on: Ossa on Pelion of rapture and young delight and
+wonder, when suddenly a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder. The boy
+started as if he had been shot. Miss Duty Bute whirled him round, away
+from the opening into Paradise,--I should say the knot-hole,--and
+stooping down, applied her eye to the aperture.
+
+The little scene on the porch of the opposite house had no special
+charm for Miss Duty: she only saw her sister, Resigned Eliz, as she
+had called her in former days, and her hired girl. The butcher had
+told her that Resigned Eliz had hired a girl; also, she, Miss Duty,
+had rheumatism in her joints, which made stooping painful to her.
+Therefore, when she straightened her poor back, and turned once more
+upon the trembling Bije, her mood was none of the softest.
+
+Briefly, he was told that if ever she caught him spying upon the other
+house, whensoever or howsoever, he would pack off that moment of time.
+He had no more to do with the other house than he had with the Plagues
+of Egypt, she'd have him to know; and when she wanted spying done, she
+could do it herself, without hiring no shif'less, long-legged,
+trifling boys to do it for her. Finally, was she to have any
+kindling-wood split that night, or was she not?
+
+This was very dreadful, and for some days Bije hardly dared to look
+over the fence, much less to loiter in the shed for an instant. But
+what says the old song, the Lover's song, that perhaps (who knows?)
+may have been sung in the streets when Will Shakespeare was a little
+naughty boy?
+
+    "Over the mountain,
+      And over the waves;
+    Under the fountains,
+      And under the graves;
+    Under floods that are deepest,
+      Which Neptune obey,
+    Over rocks that are steepest,
+      Love will find out the way."
+
+This being so, what could two elderly ladies, who seldom stirred from
+their own door-yards, save to go to meeting--what were they to do
+against the all-conquering little god, or against Abijah Green, his
+soldier and slave? Bije found out the way, unconscious of any
+fluttering wings about him, any mischievous, rosy imp with bow and
+arrow.
+
+A posy laid on the fence; then an apple, polished on the coat-sleeve
+till it shone again; then two more apples and a posy beside them, to
+show that there could be no mistake about it.
+
+Betsy was only eighteen, and if life was dull at Miss Duty's, it was
+not exciting at Miss Resigned Elizabeth's. She, too, had been
+cautioned to have nothing to do with "that bold-lookin' boy over t'
+the other house!" But Betsy did not think the boy was bold-looking.
+Anyhow, she hoped (but her hopes were not expressed aloud) she had
+manners enough to say thank you, when any one was pretty-behaved. So
+she said thank you, first with her eyes (because Miss Resigned
+Elizabeth was close by, watering the flower-beds), then with her lips;
+and it became evident to Bije that she had the sweetest voice that
+ever was heard in the world. The flowers were real pretty! Betsy
+thought a sight o' flowers. They had lots of pansies to home, and she
+did miss 'em, so these seemed real homelike. Did Mr.--well, there!
+some might think 'twas queer for her to be talkin' to him, and never
+knowin' what his name was! Bijah Green? Betsy wanted to know! Why, she
+had an uncle named Green, over to South Beulah. Not her own uncle--he
+married her aunt Phrony; real nice man, he was. She wondered if he was
+any relation. But what she was goin' to say? She didn't suppose Mr.
+Green cared for southernwood. There was a great root of it round by
+the back-door here; 'twas dretful sweet, and she had to set it over,
+Miss Bute said. He could have a piece off the root, just as well as
+not; only she didn't s'pose he cared for such common doin's as
+southernwood.
+
+It appeared that southernwood had been Mr. Green's favorite plant from
+his cradle, as one might say. If there was one thing he did hanker
+after, it was southernwood; but he couldn't see her grubbin' up things
+that way. If he knew where the bush was, he could get it himself, just
+as easy--
+
+Betsy would not hear of that! Besides, _she_ was dretful pernickety
+about folks comin' into the yard. There! Betsy didn't know what she'd
+say this minute, if she was to see her talkin' to him; but for her,
+Betsy's, part, she had allers been brought up to be neighborly. Bije
+chimed in eagerly. 'Twas dretful lonesome, specially come evenin's. To
+see her ("her" in this case meant Miss Duty) settin' there, knittin'
+for dear life, and never a word to say to any one--'twas enough to
+make any one feel homesick. Not but what she was good, in her way,
+only 'twas a tormentin', up-stiff kind o' way. Drivin' the cow, too!
+It did seem as though he should fly, sometimes, drivin' that critter
+all alone from pasture. His sister allers went with him, to home; he
+s'posed that's why it seemed so lonesome now. Where did _she_ (oh, New
+England! oh, poor little hard-worked pronouns! this "she" was Miss
+Resigned Elizabeth),--where did she keep her cow? Seem's though--
+
+Seems, Bijah? Nay, it is!
+
+What are cows and country roads made for, I should like to know, save
+for the pleasure of youths and maidens? Miss Duty's cow was kept in
+the humplety field, as the children called it, a mile and more from
+Cuttyhunk, the pasture where Miss Resigned Elizabeth's good Brindle
+spent her peaceful days; yet it was strange to see the intimacy that
+sprung up between these two creatures in the next few weeks.
+
+At a certain turn of the road, Brindle would stop and fall to cropping
+the grass by the road-side, swinging her body about and switching the
+flies off comfortably; while her driver, loitering a few steps behind,
+pulled the early golden-rod or plaited sweet rushes together,
+apparently absorbed in her task, and only from time to time casting
+shy glances down the other road, which led off, over hill and dale, to
+Cuttyhunk. But, by-and-by, down this other road would come another
+cow,--not a happy, leisurely cow like Brindle, but a breathless and
+much-tormented beast who had been hurried out of all nature ever since
+she left the pasture, absolutely goaded along the way by urgent word
+and gesture, by shakings of her tail, and apostrophes most
+unreasonable.
+
+"Go lang, you old snail! what you gormin' all over the road for? Want
+to sleep here, do ye? Of all slow critters ever I see, you're the beat
+'em; cold molasses kin gallop, 'longside o' you."
+
+Poor Molly did not understand this kind of thing from one with whom
+she had been so friendly-intimate as Bije. She made such haste as she
+could, poor beast, and it was a great relief when she saw Brindle's
+horns round the corner; for now, she had already learned from
+experience, the hurry was over. Now she and her bovine friend could
+take their way along the grassy road, as slowly as any cow could wish.
+Bijah, who had come panting along the road, breathless with haste and
+repeated adjurations, became suddenly compassionate. The poor beasts
+were tired, likely. 'Twouldn't do to hurry them; anyhow, 'twas bad for
+the cream. Oh, Bijah! Bijah! what would your pious grandmother say, if
+she were witness of your barefaced duplicity on these occasions?
+
+But what occasions they were! It was a pretty sight, if one had been
+there to see. The road was pretty, to begin with,--the Indiana road,
+with its overhanging birches and elms, and the fringe of daisies and
+golden-rod along the sides. The evening light was soft and sweet, as
+if the sun had put on his tenderest gleam to smile on Betsy; and as
+the twilight deepened, in rosy gray softening into amethyst, did not
+the moon come up, all clear and silver, just to look at Betsy? The
+white light shimmered on the girl's soft hair, and deepened the
+dimples in her round cheek, and cast strange gleams into her lovely
+eyes. Was the other Juliet fairer, I wonder? Possibly; but, on the
+other hand, she could not drive cows, nor milk them, either. Surely
+the other Romeo was not more passionate than this dark-eyed boy in his
+brown jean overalls, walking so sedately by Juliet's--I should say, by
+Betsy's--side. Bije felt as if the whole world were light and fire;
+the fire within him, the light without. He thought that Betsy gave
+light to the moon, not the moon to Betsy. He did not wish he were a
+glove upon that hand, for the little brown hand had never worn a
+glove, except once, at the wedding of a friend. The gloves were at
+home now, wrapped in silver paper; she meant to wear them at her own
+wedding. He did not swear by yonder blessed moon, because he was not
+in the habit of swearing. "By gosh!" was the only expletive Bije ever
+used, and he would not have thought of using that in a lady's
+presence. The fire within burned him; but what sweet pain it was! If
+he had only had the gift of language, this poor, dear Bije, what
+floods of glowing words he would have poured out! How he would have
+praised her, the beloved one, and praised the night, and blessed the
+moon, and the stars, and the old cows, and everything that came near
+him and his happiness! But if he had spoken, Bije could only have said
+that it was a sightly night, and Betsy would have responded that it
+was so.
+
+One of these sightly nights Bijah found voice, if not language. They
+were pacing slowly along, letting Brindle and Molly have it all their
+own way. It was the full of the moon, the harvest-moon, and all the
+world lay bathed in silver light. They had been silent for a while,
+through sheer peace and content in each other; but suddenly Bije broke
+out with, "I wish't I had a snow-apple!"
+
+"Why, how you startled me!" Betsy responded. "Why do you want a
+snow-apple now, of all times in the world? They won't be ripe for nigh
+onto two months, Bije."
+
+"Do you know what I thought of, first time ever I see you?" the boy
+went on, with apparent irrelevance. "Well, I thought of a snow-apple
+then, and thought you looked the most like one of anything in the
+world."
+
+"Well, of all!" said Betsy.
+
+"I did! There's nothing else as I know of that's so red and white, and
+so round, and so--so sweet, Betsy."
+
+"Bijah Green, how you do talk!" Betsy cried. "It's time we was gettin'
+home with these cows." But she did not quicken her pace, and Bije
+noticed that she did not.
+
+"Do you know what I'd do if you were a snow, Betsy?" Bije came a
+little nearer, and his voice grew husky.
+
+"Eat me, presume likely!" said Betsy, with a little laugh that
+trembled as if it were full of tears.
+
+"No!" cried the boy. "I'd pick you off the tree, though, and have you
+for my own, Betsy. I'd carry you off, and run away with you, sure's
+the world. Should--should you mind much, Betsy?"
+
+But for once Betsy had nothing to say. She could only hang her head,
+and look more and more like the snow-apple, as Bije's arm stole round
+her, and his hand clasped hers. Little Betsy! She was only eighteen;
+four years older, it is true, than that creature of fire and perfume
+over in the other Verona, but still almost a child, according to New
+England ideas. The moon looked down, and probably thought she had seen
+the same sort of thing ever since she was an asteroid, and these
+children were like all the rest. But what a mistaken old moon she
+was,--for there had never been any one like Betsy, and certainly no
+one like Bijah, since the world began; and it was all perfectly new
+and strange, and--and--they had a very pleasant walk home.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"A bird of the air shall carry the matter!" What bird of all that fly
+could have had so bad a heart as to tell Miss Resigned Elizabeth of
+what was going on? Did a raven come on heavy-flapping wings, and
+croak it in her ear? Or was it a magpie, or a chattering jay? Surely
+no respectable robin or oriole would think of such a thing! But,
+however the news reached her, it was there, and the golden time was
+rudely broken in upon.
+
+Coming in one evening all flushed and radiant with her new joy, the
+child was met by her mistress (only we do not say "mistress" in New
+England; we say "she" or "her," as the case may be),--she was met, I
+say, by Miss Resigned Elizabeth, wearing so stern a face that the
+blush froze on Betsy's cheek, and the smile fled from the corners of
+her mouth, where it always loved to linger.
+
+"Betsy Garlick, where have you been with that cow?"
+
+Betsy faltered. "Been with her, Miss Bute? I've been bringing her back
+from pasture, same as I allers do."
+
+"Same as you allers do? And how's that? Betsy Garlick, ain't you
+ashamed to look me in the face, and you goin' with that low-lived
+feller over t' the other house?"
+
+But at this Betsy caught fire. "He ain't no low-lived feller!" she
+cried, the blushes coming back again in an angry flood over cheek and
+brow and neck. "You can scold me all you're a mind to, Miss Bute, and
+I won't say nothin'; but you ain't no call to abuse Bijah."
+
+"Oh, I ain't, ain't I?" cried Miss Resigned Elizabeth, taking fire in
+her turn. "I'm to be shet up in my own house, am I, by a girl from
+North Beulah? I'm to have such actions goin' on under my nose, and
+never so much as wink at 'em, am I? I should like to know! You go to
+your room this minute, Betsy Garlick, and stay there till I tell you
+to come out, or you'll find out p'raps more than you like. North
+Beulah! Well, of all impudence!"
+
+Betsy fled to her room, and the angry woman followed and turned the
+key upon her. Then, returning to her sitting-room, Miss Resigned
+Elizabeth sat down and made out her line of action in this domestic
+crisis. She sat for some time, her head shaking with indignation over
+the iniquities of this generation; then she went to the writing-desk,
+so seldom used, and, with stiff, trembling fingers, wrote two notes.
+One of the notes was posted, being intrusted to the care of the
+travelling baker, who went jingling by just in the nick of time; the
+other was thrust in at Miss Duty's door by a withered hand, which held
+it unflinchingly till Miss Duty came and took it, wondering greatly,
+but not opening the door an inch wider to catch a glimpse of her
+sister's face,--the face she had not looked into for ten years.
+
+When the hand was withdrawn, Miss Duty proceeded to decipher the note,
+her gray hair bristling with indignation as she did so.
+
+   SISTER DUTY,--Your help has been courting my hired girl, and I
+   don't suppose you want any such doings, any more than I do. I
+   have shet the girl up in her room till he is gone, and sent for
+   her stepmother. So no more from your sister.
+
+        R. E. BUTE.
+
+Who shall paint Miss Duty's wrath? It was more violent than her
+sister's, for she was of sterner mould; and it was really a fiery
+whirlwind that greeted the delinquent Bijah when he came whistling in
+from the barn, cheerfully smiling and at peace with all the world. But
+the boy who faced Miss Duty in her fury was a very different person
+from the meek, submissive youth whom she had learned to know and
+tyrannize over as Bije Green.
+
+This Bije met her torrent of angry words with head held high, and
+smiling countenance. Ashamed? No, he wasn't ashamed, not the least
+mite in the world. Pick up his duds and go? Why, of course he
+would--just as easy! Should he wait to split the kindling-wood and
+bring in the water? Just as she said; it didn't make a mite o'
+difference to him. Go right off, this minute of time? Ruther go than
+eat, any time. One week's pay--thank her kindly, much obliged. The cow
+was fed, and he cal'c'lated she'd find everything pretty slick in the
+barn. Real pleasant night for a walk--good evenin'!
+
+The consequence of which was--what? Certainly not what Miss Duty had
+expected, or Miss Resigned, either.
+
+At daybreak next morning, when the gray heads of these indignant
+virgins were still lying on their pillows, taking an interval of peace
+with all the world, Bijah was under Betsy's window, like a flame of
+fire. Betsy was not asleep. Oh, no! She was crying, poor little soul,
+at thought of going back to her stepmother, one of the old-fashioned
+kind, and never seeing Bije again. For she would never see him, of
+course. Hark! Was that a pebble thrown against the glass? A peep
+through the green blinds, up went the little window, softly, softly,
+and the dearest girl in the world leaned out, showing her sweet
+tear-stained face in the faint gray light,--a sight which made Bije
+more fiery than ever. Softly she bade him begone, for she dared not
+speak to him. How did he know Miss Bute wasn't looking at him this
+minute, out of her window?
+
+It appeared that Bije did not care if twenty Miss Butes were looking
+at him, though one was enough to frighten the crows. Betsy was to put
+on her bunnit that minute, and come along with him. Door locked? What
+did that matter, he should like to know? He should laugh if she was to
+be kept shet up there like a mouse in a trap. Send her home to her
+stepmother? He'd like to see them try it, that was all. Never mind the
+things! Come right along! She'd ben cryin'! He'd like to get hold of
+them as made her cry. There'd be _some_ cryin' round, but it wouldn't
+be hers. Come! Why didn't Betsy come? They'd take the cows out to
+pasture this once more,--he didn't want the dumb critters to suffer,
+and 't wasn't likely the old cats could get any help before
+night,--and then they'd go. Go where? Now Betsy knew that well enough.
+To Friar Laurence, of course (Bije called him parson instead of friar,
+and he spelled his name with a _w_ instead of a _u_, but these are
+mere trifles of detail), to get married. Where else should they go?
+Wasn't she his Betsy, his own girl? Did she think she was goin' to
+stay there and be hectored, while he was round? Parson Lawrence was to
+home, Bije saw him only last night. Now could she climb down that
+grape-vine? He reckoned she could, and he'd be standin' ready to catch
+her if her foot should slip.
+
+"Oh, Bije! you take my breath away, you're so dretful speedy. Why, I
+can't--no way in the world. What--where should I go then, if--if we
+did--do what you say? Not that I can--with no clo'es but what I've got
+on. The idea!"
+
+"Go? go home, of course, to mother's. Won't she be glad to see ye?
+Won't Delilah half eat ye up, she'll be so pleased? That's all you
+know, Betsy. And the help you'll be, and me too! Mother was dretful
+onreconciled to my goin' away, but I felt to go and see something of
+the world. And now I've seen all I want to, and I'm good and ready to
+go home, Betsy; but not alone."
+
+How silver-sweet, indeed, sound lovers' tongues by night! But no
+sweeter than now in the early morning, when all the world was as young
+and fresh as Betsy, and as full of love and tenderness. In truth, it
+was the hour for a bridal. The air was full of bridal-veils: floating
+wreaths of silver fog that hung soft on the trees, and shimmered
+against the hill-sides, and here and there began to soften into golden
+and rosy tints as the light strengthened. They were all over the
+grass, too, these bridal-tokens, in tiny webs of purest spun-silver,
+diamond-set. A carpet of pearls was spread for Betsy's little feet,
+and she would never cry out, as slug-a-bed maidens do, if the pearls
+and diamonds wetted her shoes. Is the bride ready?
+
+    "Red as a rose is she.
+    Nodding their heads before her goes
+    The merry minstrelsy."
+
+Hark to them now! They are tuning their instruments in every branch of
+the elm-tree, cheep, twitter, trill; and now they burst out in a
+triumphal chorus of song:--
+
+    "O Hymen, Hymenæe!"
+
+and Betsy needs neither Mendelssohn nor Wagner to tell her what a
+wedding-march is. In very sooth, are there no young people beside
+Betsy and Bijah who know enough to be married in the early morning,
+and begin their first day together?
+
+For Betsy can hold out no longer. She retires to put on the pink
+calico gown, because Bije will not hear of her being married in any
+other. It is a pity that she will put on her best hat, instead of the
+pretty sunbonnet; but one cannot expect a girl to be married in a
+"slat." She ties up her little bundle with trembling hands, while her
+cheeks glow and her heart beats so that she fancies Miss Bute must
+hear it in the room below.
+
+Now she peeps out again, but shrinks back, afraid of the fire in the
+brown boy's eyes, and the passion of his outstretched arms. O Romeo!
+Romeo! But the whisper, "Betsy, _my_ Betsy!" brings her out again,
+with a little proud, tearful smile. Yes, she is his Betsy. He is good
+and true; he will take care of her. She would trust all the world to
+Bijah.
+
+Carefully now! The trellis is strong. (Had not Bijah tested it in the
+night, when she was sobbing in her sleep, to see that all was safe for
+her?) One foot on this round--so! Now down, slowly, carefully; take
+care of this step, for it is a weak one! Drop the bundle--there! Safe
+at last! At last! "All the world and we two," nothing else beside. As
+Betsy's foot touches the ground, up comes the sun to look at her. A
+long shaft of golden light touches her fair head, and lies like a
+benediction on her brow. The boy gazes at her, and sees no other sun.
+Ah, Juliet! if the measure of thy joy be heap'd like mine, and that
+thy skill be more to blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath this
+neighbor air, and let rich music's tongue unfold the imagin'd
+happiness that both receive in either by this dear encounter. Call
+softly, though, softly, so as not to wake the old ladies: "Co'boss!
+Co'boss!" Push the mossy gate, and let the good, silent creatures out,
+the confidants of our love these many weeks. Come, sweet Capulet!
+Come, Betsy, and let us drive the cows to pasture!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Great was the wrath in the virgin bosoms of the Misses Bute when the
+flight of Betsy and her dark-eyed lover was discovered. Miss Duty
+relieved her feelings by a furious bout of house-cleaning, and
+scrubbed and scoured as if she were determined to purge the house from
+the very memory of Bijah Green. But Miss Resigned Elizabeth had a
+touch of rheumatism, and could not take refuge in that solace of
+womankind. She could only sit and fret, poor soul, and wish she had
+some one to talk it over with. Dear to goodness! Come times like this,
+one did feel forsaken. Miss Resigned Elizabeth almost felt that she
+could make up with her sister, for the sake of the common cause of
+anger they now had. She glanced across the way, as she huddled up in
+her shawl, taking the sun on the back-porch. If she had seen any
+softness in the lines of Miss Duty's back, as she stood washing
+windows on her own porch, Miss Resigned Elizabeth almost felt as if
+she could cough, or perhaps even speak, just to pass the time of day.
+But Miss Duty's back was as rigid as her principles; and though she
+knew well enough that her sister was near, she gave no sign of
+consciousness. The younger sister felt forlorn and old, and drew her
+shawl closer around her, as if a cold air blew from that stiff figure
+on the other porch.
+
+But 'twas warmer here than in the house, anyway.
+
+The house seemed strangely cold and cheerless since Betsy went away.
+There was no one singing in the little pantry, or making a cheerful
+clatter among the milk-pails. If Miss Resigned Elizabeth had only
+known how things were going to turn out, she would never have hired a
+girl; but now, it didn't seem as if she could get along without
+one,--coming winter, too.
+
+But it was not so easy to get a girl in Verona. "Help is turrible
+skurce!" was the answer to all Miss Resigned Elizabeth's inquiries;
+nor did Miss Duty fare better in her search for a boy to fill the
+place of the delinquent Bijah. They both had to send for old John, the
+village chore-man, a surly elder, who grumbled bitterly at the
+half-mile walk on the Indiana road, and wanted to know what folks
+lived out there in the wilderness for, anyway. A sad time the poor
+ladies had now. Their pails were mixed up, because old John saw no
+reason for giving way to such foolishness on the part of the Bute
+girls, with whom he had gone to school forty years before, and who
+had never been so all creation as they thought they were, that he
+knew of. The indignant maidens found baskets marked with hostile
+initials in the shed; and if old John did not find what he wanted on
+the premises of one sister, he coolly took it from the other house,
+without so much as "by your leave." They could not even tell whether
+they were drinking their own cow's milk, or that of the critter over'n
+the next yard; for John drove the cows together to whichever pasture
+he happened to fancy, and milked them together, whistling defiance as
+he did so. Any remonstrance was met with the announcement that he,
+John, was only coming to accommodate, and the sooner they found some
+one else to do their putterin', the better he should be pleased.
+
+It was really a dreadful state of things. Why, they might almost as
+well be living together again, Miss Duty thought; and Miss Resigned
+Elizabeth thought so, too. And so the days wore on, and the weeks, and
+made themselves into months; and the Misses Bute mourned in secret for
+Betsy Garlick and Bijah Green.
+
+A year passed, as years do, whether people are comfortable or not.
+Miss Duty and Miss Resigned Elizabeth were not comfortable; but nobody
+seemed to care, and help continued to be "turrible skurce." Summer had
+come again, the late summer even, and the harvest-moon. One evening,
+just at sunset, as Miss Duty was straining the milk, there came a
+sharp knock at the door. Miss Duty did not altogether approve of
+people's knocking at her door at any time, and it was a special
+outrage just now, when anybody with brains in his head must know that
+she was busy; so she set down the pan and waited to see what would
+come next. Another knock came next, so imperious that Miss Duty wiped
+her hands on her apron and went to the door, outwardly calm, but
+inwardly raging.
+
+There stood Calvin Parks, the driver of the Beulah stage, with a straw
+in his mouth and a twinkle in his eye.
+
+"Lady out here to see you, Miss Bute," he said. "Very important
+business. Good evenin'!"
+
+He was gone before the indignant lady could say a word. If you came to
+think of it, this was shameless impudence. A lady indeed! An agent,
+likely, selling some trash that wasn't fit for stove-kindlings. At any
+rate, Miss Duty must go and give the woman a piece of her mind, comin'
+traipsin' round, just when folks was busy. The idea!
+
+Out she went, fire in her eye, thunder ready rolling on her tongue.
+Out she went, and found--Betsy Garlick.
+
+Betsy Green, rather; for the maiden Betsy never had this air of
+prosperity, this sweet, matronly look; was never dressed like this
+young woman, who sat on the boundary-stone that divided Miss Duty's
+lot from that of the other house, and smiled,--actually smiled in Miss
+Duty's face; and in her sister's too, for Calvin Parks had summoned
+Miss Resigned Elizabeth also, and she was approaching with feebler,
+slower steps. And who was this, standing by Betsy's side, erect,
+beaming, jubilant? Who but the recreant Bijah?
+
+"Oh, Miss Butes!" cried Betsy, lifting her sweet face to one and then
+to the other of the sisters. "Please, Bijah and me couldn't pass
+through Verony without stoppin' to pass the time of day, and see how
+you was gettin' on. We're real sorry we went off and left you that
+way, without notice. 'Twan't right, we know that now; but, then, we
+couldn't find no other way to fix it, seemed's though. I hope you
+don't bear malice, Miss Butes. We've done real well, Bijah and me.
+We're goin' now to look at a farm in Cortez't we've heard of. Bijah's
+grandmother has left him quite consid'able of means, for us, and we
+want to have a place of our own, though no one couldn't be kinder than
+Mother Green and Delilah has been. I--I hope you've both been right
+smart, this time, and had good help right along?"
+
+Oh, wicked little Betsy! You knew very well that they have _not_ been
+right smart. Calvin Parks told you and Bijah all about their forlorn
+condition, and how old John bullied them (How did he know? Why, what
+is the use of being a stage-driver, if you do not know everything?),
+and you have come here with the very slyest scheme in your little head
+that ever kindness and cleverness concocted. And now you are going to
+play your trump-card, seeing that the two ladies are still silent,
+each, perhaps, waiting for the other to speak.
+
+"And another reason we had for stoppin'," says Betsy, looking down at
+a great bundle in her lap, from which faint sounds now began to issue.
+"Oh, Miss Butes, we--I _did_ feel to have you see Baby, 'cause I don't
+believe you ever did see such a darling in this world." With these
+words, she drew the shawl aside, and there on her lap lay the child,
+all warm and rosy, just waking from his nap, and stretching his little
+limbs, and blinking his eyes in the light.
+
+A baby! When had the Bute ladies seen a baby as near as this? Miss
+Resigned Elizabeth felt a tugging at her heart-strings; she had always
+been fond of children. Miss Duty felt--she hardly knew what; but she
+saw the tears on her sister's cheek; saw, too, how old and feeble she
+had grown, and what a pitiful look there was in her pale blue eyes.
+And yet she had a look of Mother, too!
+
+At this moment the baby gave a crow and a kick, and made a grab at
+Miss Duty's dress. In the effort, he nearly rolled off his mother's
+lap. Instinctively the two sisters bent down to catch him, and as they
+did so their heads came together with a smart crack. Miss Resigned
+Elizabeth began to cry, she could not tell why, and Miss Duty laughed.
+"You ain't fit to live alone, Resigned Eliz!" she said, and she hardly
+recognized her own voice.
+
+"Well, I ain't, sister; that's a fact!" responded Miss Resigned
+Elizabeth, meekly. "My eyesight ain't what it was. But he _is_ a
+lovely child, Betsy; and--and I'm right glad to see you, Betsy, if you
+_didn't_ act quite as you should."
+
+"Why, you're as blind as a mole!" cried the elder sister, in high good
+humor. "And you ain't had the sense to get glasses fitted." (Miss Duty
+could read the very smallest print, as well as she could twenty years
+ago) "The idea! And that thin dress ain't fit for you to wear this
+cold day." Miss Duty seemed to meditate. "Bije Green!" she said
+sharply, turning for the first time to her quondam "help."
+
+"Yes, ma'am!" said Bije, meekly. He had kept silence till now, having
+absolute confidence in Betsy's diplomatic powers; but now he stepped
+boldly forward, and met Miss Duty's gaze without flinching.
+
+"You behaved scandalous, Bije Green, when you was here before, as well
+you know. But I'm willin' to let bygones be bygones, seein' things is
+how they is. You go get the wheelbarrow, and bring it here. Resigned
+'Liz," she added, turning to her sister, "go on in, and pack up your
+things. I s'pose it's fitting I should see to you, from now on. You
+come home, and we'll see. Mebbe I used to be a little cuterin',
+sometimes--though you did try me."
+
+"I know I did, sister!" Miss Resigned Elizabeth cried. "Most prob'ly
+the fault was mine, though I did feel your cuttin' up the hair
+bracelet. But there! I've been dretful lonesome sence Betsy went.
+I--I'd be real glad to come home, sister!"
+
+"So that's all there is to it," said Miss Duty, in a final manner. "As
+for the other house--"
+
+"Miss Bute!" cried Betsy Green, her eyes sparkling, her breath coming
+quickly. "We--we weren't so dretful set on goin' to Cortez. We'd
+enough sight ruther find a place nearer home. I never thought--" here
+she stopped short, being a truthful Betsy; for she _had_ thought, and
+planned, and hoped in her kind little heart, and now here was
+everything coming out just as she hoped it would. "I'd ruther live
+here than anywhere else in the world!" she said simply. "'Twas here I
+saw Bijah first, and all; and you was real kind to me, Miss Bute, and
+I do love Brindle."
+
+"Them cows has been treated scand'lous," said Bije, lifting up his
+testimony. "Whoever's had the doin' for 'em! All banged about, same as
+if the' was yaller dogs. I took a look at 'em as we come along, and I
+felt to pity 'em, now I tell you. I could take care of 'em, Miss Bute,
+jest as well as not, with what I had of my own, and they wouldn't
+suffer none. I think a sight of that red cow, and the other one,
+too."
+
+"And I could do for both of you," cried Betsy, "all you'd want
+done--me and Bije together. I could run over every mornin' and
+afternoon, and clean up if you wasn't feelin' smart, and Bije could do
+the chores. And--and there'd be Baby for company!" she added, with a
+little downward look of heavenly pride,--the very look, I declare, of
+a certain Bellini Madonna, who holds her lovely state in Venice. But
+now the baby thought his turn had come, and after a careful scrutiny
+of the two elderly women, he held out his arms and fairly shouted at
+Miss Resigned Elizabeth.
+
+"You blessed creetur?" cried the poor woman, pouncing upon him with
+the pathetic hunger of a woman who was meant for a mother. "Did he
+want to come, bless his heart? Well, he should!" and she took the
+child up, and hugged and cuddled it "real knowin'," as Betsy said to
+herself. Miss Duty looked on in amazement. She had not the mother
+nature. "Why, Resigned 'Liz, you're fairly childish. The idea!" She
+paused, feeling rebuked, she knew not why, by the joy in her sister's
+pinched and faded face. Miss Resigned Elizabeth had not had a joyous
+life.
+
+"Well, if 't is to be so," Miss Duty continued, after a pause, during
+which Betsy and the younger sister held their breath and Bije thought
+about the cows. "If 't is to be so, so it will be, I s'pose. I dono'
+but you can go right in, Betsy, if it's so you can stay. My sister
+ain't goin' to spend another night there. Perhaps you'll help her lay
+her things together. And Bije, if you feel to milk the cows
+to-night--I'm free to say I should like to send that John Peaslee
+about his business, after the hectorin' he's give us this late. You'll
+find the pails--"
+
+But Bijah was already gone, whistling joyously. As if he didn't know
+where the milk-pails were!
+
+"Betsy," Miss Duty continued, turning back to instruct the new tenant
+as to her course of action. But Betsy was gone, too; flown into the
+house with her baby, like a bird into its nest. Only Miss Resigned
+Elizabeth remained, looking at her with eyes that seemed to grow more
+plaintive and more helpless every minute, as the burden of
+responsibility dropped from her tired shoulders.
+
+"You go right in the house this minute, Resigned 'Liz!" said Miss
+Duty, severely. "Gettin' your death out here in this night-air! The
+idea!" And with a frown that was better than a smile, she went into
+the house, driving her sister before her.
+
+"A plague o' both your houses?" Nay! only joy on one side and the
+other of the white picket-fence. On the one side, content and peaceful
+days, with ten years' gossip to talk over, and the sense of being
+cared for, and of having "folks" once more. Happy old age coming
+softly, bringing with it grace and gentle words, and ways which their
+grim youth had never known; finally, the absolute rest which came from
+Betsy's and Bijah's watchful love and care, and the strange pleasure
+of being called "aunt" by the baby, and the succeeding babies. Yes,
+the Bute girls were happy for the first time in their lives.
+
+And on the other side of the fence? Ah! there it was not the calm
+peace of evening, but the fresh joy of morning and of spring. Seeing
+that there was no one in the world who could hold a candle to Bijah,
+and that Betsy was the best woman there was in these parts, let alone
+furrin lands, why should they not have been happy? And beside all
+this, had they not the most wonderful children, probably, that had
+ever been seen? There was not a doubt of it in Betsy's mind, nor in
+Miss Resigned Elizabeth's. Taking these things into consideration,
+together with the fact that their cows were most remarkable cows, and
+their hens the finest that had ever clucked in Verona, is it to be
+wondered at that our little friends were very happy, and the old
+ladies so good, and one of 'em an angel if she ever dared to call her
+soul her own?
+
+A blessing on both houses! Peace and good-will, and all loving and
+tender thoughts! And may the sun, as he rises over the great
+hill-shoulder, always cast his brightest beams on the Indiana road.
+
+
+    THE END.
+
+
+
+
+_Books by Laura E. Richards._
+
+
+    =Melody.= The Story of a Child. 16mo, cloth,
+      50 cents.
+
+      Had there never been a "Captain January," "Melody"
+      would easily take first place.--_Boston Times._
+
+      The quaintly pretty, touching, old-fashioned story is told
+      with perfect grace, the few persons who belong to it are
+      touched in with distinctness and with sympathy.--_Milwaukee
+      Sentinel._
+
+    =Captain January.= Square 16mo, cloth (white
+      back), 50 cents.
+
+      A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose success
+      has been very remarkable. One reads it, is thoroughly
+      charmed by it, tells others, and so its fame has been
+      heralded by its readers, until to-day it is selling by the
+      thousands, constantly enlarging the circle of its delighted
+      admirers.
+
+    =Same.= _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty
+      half-tone pictures from drawings by Frank T.
+      Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.
+
+    =Narcissa=, and a companion Story, =In Verona=.
+      16mo, cloth, 50 cents.
+
+    =When I was Your Age.= 4to, cloth, gilt top,
+      $1.25.
+
+      The title most happily introduces the reader to the
+      charming home life of Dr. Howe and Mrs. Julia Ward
+      Howe, during the childhood of the author.
+
+    =Glimpses of the French Court.= Sketches from
+      French History. Illustrated with a series of
+      portraits in etching and photogravure. Square
+      12mo, cloth, $1.50.
+
+      With true literary touch, she gives us the story of some
+      of the salient figures of this remarkable period.
+
+    =Marie.= Square 16mo, 50 cents.
+
+
+_Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+    Minor spelling inconsistencies, mainly hyphenated words, have been
+    harmonized. Italic text has been marked with _underscores_. Bold
+    text has been marked with =equal signs=. The Advertisement "Books
+    by Laura E. Richards" was originally at the front of the book and
+    has been moved to the end.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Narcissa, or the Road to Rome, by Laura E. Richards
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41188 ***