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
Katie had the discretion not to mention her rencontre with the Border
Ruffian to any but her husband, who grew red in the face and clenched
his fist, while he listened, but immediately subsided into a calmer
mood, and said, “We must be careful never to lose sight of the best
interests of Kansas, in our resentment at the wrongs and insults we are
continually receiving. We will give these lawless rascals no excuse for
molesting us, and wait with patience for the American government to
protect its unoffending citizens.”
On the afternoon of the same day, a gawky lad, with a “long nine” in his
mouth, and hands in his trowsers pockets, came to the door, saying, “The
ole woman’s tuk wi’ fits almighty strong; and the ole man wants you to
cum, and bring along some o’ yer doctor’s stuff. He’s heern tell that
yer death on fits.”
Mrs. Bradford had become so accustomed to the South-Western lingo, that
she understood “the ole man” to be the lad’s father. She knew very well
that he was a Missouri spy, of the lowest order, an accomplice in many
villainous proceedings against the free-soil citizens of Kansas. She
felt a loathing of the whole family, not unmingled with resentment; but
she rose quickly to prepare the medicines; thinking to herself, “What
hypocrisy it is for me to profess to be a believer in Christianity, if
I cannot cheerfully return good for evil, in such a case as this.” She
administered relief to the sufferer, as tenderly as if she had been her
own sister; and the poor woman expressed gratitude for it, in her
uncouth way. When Kate remarked that they would feel more kindly toward
the Yankees, if they knew them better, she replied, “I allers tole my
ole man I wished they wouldn’t keep up such a muss. But Lor’, what the
use o’ speakin’. It’s jist like spittin’ agin the wind.”
That night, Mr. Bradford’s horse and saddle were stolen. They never knew
by whom; but they were afterward seen in Missouri.
In the midst of discouragements and dangers, the brave band of settlers
went on with their work. Better stores were erected, and, one after
another, the temporary cabins gave place to comfortable stone houses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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