Autumnal leaves: tales and sketches in prose and rhymeChild, Lydia Maria
General
Autumnal leaves: tales and sketches in prose and rhyme
Child, Lydia Maria
American essays -- 19th century; American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
When this storm of grief began to subside, he consoled himself with the
thought, “Whatever happens now, I can never again suffer as I _have_
suffered.” More than a week passed, before he heard that Madame Van der
Veen had left no will; that she had survived all her immediate
relatives; and that the nearest heir to the property resided at Manilla.
This was a stunning blow. Zaida reminded him how their good mistress had
instructed them to pray to God when they were in trouble; and many a
fervent imploring supplication ascended from their humble hut. Jan
resolved to plead earnestly with the heir, and he comforted himself with
the idea that the physician would tell him how their kind mistress had
spoken of their freedom during her illness. But even if his entreaties
should prevail with the stranger, where could they live? Could they be
sure of finding employment? He spent every leisure moment in weaving
mats and baskets for sale, and the children were kept busy gathering
wild fruits for the market. Those things sold for a very low price, and
it would be a long time indeed before he could acquire a piece of land
and a hut by that process. But the gold piece! He felt of his girdle to
ascertain if it was safe. Yes, it was there; a nest-egg, from which his
imagination hatched a large brood of chickens. Hope struggled with
anxiety for a few weeks, and Zaida, who always looked on the bright
side, continually repeated her belief that every thing would turn out
well. But, at last, news arrived that the heir did not intend to visit
Java; that he had intrusted the business to an agent with instructions
to sell all the property, of every description, and remit the proceeds
to him. Poor Jan thought he could never again suffer as he had suffered;
but he was mistaken. This last blow broke him down entirely. A vision of
the auction-stand, with his children bid off to different purchasers,
was always before him. The lashes and shrieks, which had so much
impressed his youthful mind, forever resounded in his imagination; but
now the shrieks came from Zaida and their little ones.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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