November settled down drearily. Few passed the shack. Catherine, who
had no one to speak with excepting the children, continually devised
amusements for them. They got to living in a world of fantasy, and
were never themselves, but always wild Indians, or arctic explorers,
or Robinson Crusoes. Kitty and Roderick, young as they were, found a
never-ending source of amusement in these little grotesque dreams and
dramas. The fund of money was getting so low that Catherine was obliged
to economize even in the necessities. If it had not been for her two
cows, she would hardly have known how to find food for her little ones.
But she had a wonderful way of making things with eggs and milk, and she
kept her little table always inviting. The day before Thanksgiving she
determined that they should all have a frolic.
“By Christmas,” she said to Kitty, “the snow may be so bad that I cannot
get to town. We'll have our high old time now.”
There is no denying that Catherine used slang even in talking to the
children. The little pony had been sold long ago, and going to town
meant a walk of twelve miles. But Catherine started out early in the
morning, and was back by nightfall, not so very much the worse, and
carrying in her arms bundles which might have fatigued a bronco.
The next morning she was up early, and was as happy and ridiculously
excited over the prospect of the day's merrymaking as if she had been
Kitty. Busy as she was, she noticed a peculiar oppression in the air,
which intensified as the day went on. The sky seemed to hang but a
little way above the rolling stretch of frost-bitten grass. But Kitty
laughing over her new doll, Roderick startling the sullen silence
with his drum, the smell of the chicken, slaughtered to make a prairie
holiday, browning in the oven, drove all apprehensions from Catherine's
mind. She was a common creature. Such very little things could make her
happy. She sang as she worked; and what with the drumming of her boy,
and the little exulting shrieks of her baby, the shack was filled with a
deafening and exhilarating din.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account