An Arrow in a Sunbeam, and Other TalesJewett, Sarah Orne
General
An Arrow in a Sunbeam, and Other Tales
Jewett, Sarah Orne
United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Juvenile fiction
I wondered if he would wear his oil-skin suit; but I was much amazed,
and my heart was touched, at seeing how hard he had tried to put
himself in trim for the visit. He had on his best jacket and trousers
(which might have been most boys' worst), and a clean calico shirt; and
he had scrubbed his' freckled, honest little face and his hard little
hands, until they were as clean as possible; and either he or his
father had cut his hair. I should think it had been done with a knife,
and it looked as if a rat had gnawed it. He had such a holiday air!
He really looked very well; but still, if I were to have a picture of
George, it should be in the oil-skin fishing-suit. He had gone out to
his box, which was anchored a little way out in the cove, and had
chosen two fine lobsters which he had tied together with a bit of
fish-line. They were lazily moving their claws and feelers; and his
father, who had come in with his boat not long before, added from his
fare of fish three plump mackerel.
"They're always glad to get new fish," said he. "The girls can't abide
a fish that's corned, and I haven't had a chance to send 'em up any
mackerel before. Ye see, they live on a cross-road, and the fish-carts
don't go by." And I told him I was very glad to carry them, or any
thing else he would like to send. "Mind your manners, now, Georgie,"
said he, "and don't be forrard. You might split up some kindlin's for
y'r aunts, and do whatever they want of ye. Boys ain't made just to
look at, so ye be handy, will ye?" And Georgie nodded solemnly. They
seemed very fond of each other, and I looked back some time afterward
to see the fisherman still standing there to watch his boy. He was
used to his being out at sea alone for hours; but this might be a great
risk to let him go off inland to stay all the afternoon.
The road crossed the salt-marshes for the first mile, and, when we had
struck the higher land, we soon entered the pine-woods, which cover a
great part of that country. It had been raining in the morning for a
little while; and the trunks of the trees were still damp, and the
underbrush was shining wet, and sent out a sweet, fresh smell. I spoke
of it, and Georgie told me that sometimes this fragrance blew far out
to sea, and then you knew the wind was north-west.
"There's the big pine you sight Minister's Ledge by," said he, "when
that comes in range over the white schoolhouse, about two miles out."
The lobsters were clashing their pegged claws together in the back of
the wagon, and Georgie sometimes looked over at them to be sure they
were all right. Of course I had given him the reins when we first
started, and he was delighted because we saw some squirrels, and even a
rabbit, which scurried across the road as if I had been a fiery dragon,
and Georgie something worse.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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