Betty Alden: The first-born daughter of the PilgrimsAustin, Jane G. (Jane Goodwin)
History
Betty Alden: The first-born daughter of the Pilgrims
Austin, Jane G. (Jane Goodwin)
United States -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction
“And there were goldfish in the fountain and birds in the trees,--oh,
such glorious birds, and some of them so sweet of song! and there was
a pond where the nuns fattened great fishes for Friday dinners, and
feasted better on them than on the flesh of other days.
“But I was going to tell you of a time, one of the last times I ever
walked in that garden or slept in my little whitewashed cell at
Dolores. Ah, now, mayhap I had been a better girl had they left me
there. Well, we walked up and down the wide grassy middle alley, the
sisters, and Inez de Soza and I, and all of us were merry, for the
Mother Superior was in a good temper and the prioress had got on her
talking-cap, and we girls and the novices asked no better than to laugh
at all our elders’ jests and cry Oh, marvelous! to all their stories,
when all at once the sister portress came down the old mossy steps
from the house, and kneeling to the Superior, who bade her rise, for
it was recreation time and all rules were relaxed, she told her that a
Dominican friar was at the gate with a comrade and asked lodging in the
priest’s chamber outside the wall.
“‘But surely! When did we refuse hospitality to a holy man, Sister
Juana?’ replied the mother. ‘Have him in with his comrade and give him
supper in the sacristy; when he has refreshed himself I will see him
there.’
“‘But he also begs permission to preach to the sisters,’ persisted old
Juana, who was as obstinate as a mule; and as the Mother paused upon
her reply, Inez and I who held her hands cried,--
“‘Oh, do, reverend Mother, oh, do let us hear a sermon!’ and she
laughing said:--
“‘Well, yes, perhaps ’twill turn your hearts from the world to religion
as I have not been able to do.’
“So we walked another turn or so and then went into the chapel, which
was full of that soft purple shadow that fills such places as the
night falls without. The wide door to the garden stood open, and I
placed myself at the end of the bench so that I could well look out and
see and smell and listen to the world while the friar should talk of
religion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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