A frontier knight : $b A story of early Texan border-lifeBlanchard, Amy Ella
General
A frontier knight : $b A story of early Texan border-life
Blanchard, Amy Ella
Mexican War, 1846-1848 -- Juvenile fiction; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction; Texas -- Juvenile fiction; Western stories
But Pedro had forestalled her in this occupation and was bringing in
the brimming buckets as she went into the kitchen. Alison, however,
went out and made friends with the chickens and stopped to speak to
Steve’s horse which was safe in the stable. Here, to her surprise, she
found Christine who had stolen out to comfort herself with ministering
to the one thing which was very near and dear to Stephen. Hero had
responded cordially to her advancements and was rubbing his handsome
head against the girl’s shoulder and nickering softly, as she fed him
with apples and talked to him caressingly. Alison backed out of the
stable without being observed by her sister and hurried back to the
house to help Louisa with the supper.
The men, bivouacked a little distance away, near the wagons, were
feasting on the viands with which they had been generously supplied,
and were making merry. The girls had not stopped to prepare a meal
earlier in the day, but now Alison insisted that they should make a
feast in the new home, for, tired though she was, she told Louisa that
when the men returned they would probably be more tired still. “And
nothing rests one like a good meal,” she remarked.
Louisa was in her element. She had already stowed away the stores, and
though books occupied one half the potato bin and fine china stood side
by side with wooden platters, she knew where everything was and was
ready to produce any article asked for. Soon the fragrance of coffee
filled the big room and from the kitchen came the sound of sizzling ham
and the odor of browning biscuits. “Just you set still and rest,” said
Louisa to the others. “I came here to earn my keep and I mean to do it.
You two ain’t used to running your legs off, and you’re all tuckered
out while I’m as fresh as a lark. I ain’t lived with Mis’ Brown all
these years without getting pretty strong in the muscles. I reckon I’d
better cook a-plenty, for there’s no telling when them men will be
coming along and they’ll be mortal hungry.”
Such a cheerful possibility had a good effect upon Christine, and as
for Alison she would hear nothing but that the entire company, Steve
included, would be with them before the meal was ready. “I shall set
the table for eight,” she said, “and I mean to put on all our best
dishes and things, for this is our house-warming.” Pedro had started
a fire in the big fireplace, for the October night was chill, and
so industrious had all been that the room presented a very cozy and
lived-in appearance. Christine, who had taken her place at the window,
was anxiously peering out into the gathering gloom. Presently she
started and called out: “Alison, Alison, come here.” Her sister obeyed
the summons. “What is that over there?” said Christine eagerly. “Does
it seem to you that some one is coming? or is it only the waving
branches of a tree? I have looked so long I cannot tell. See if you can
make it out.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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