Betty Leicester: A Story For GirlsJewett, Sarah Orne
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Betty Leicester: A Story For Girls
Jewett, Sarah Orne
Girls -- Juvenile fiction
"Look at old Step-an'-fetch-it," said Seth. "She spears all the little
winds with that peaked sail o' hern. Ain't one on 'em can git by her."
They kept company for a while, until in the broad river bay above
Riverport bridge the Starlight skimmed far ahead, like a great white
moth. Seth mentioned that folks would think they was settin' up a navy
up to Tideshead, and just then the Starlight yawed, and the boom threw
Seth off his balance and nearly overboard, as much to his own amusement
as the rest of the ship's company's. Betty and Mary Beck stowed
themselves away before the mast, and wished that the sail were longer.
The sun was low, and the light made the river and the green shores look
most beautiful. Miss Leicester suggested that they should sail a little
farther before going in, and so they went as far as the next reach, a
mile above the camp, on the accommodating west wind. It was a last puff
before sundown, and by the time Harry had anchored the Starlight in
deeper water than before, her sail drooped in the perfectly still
evening air.
Once on shore everybody was busy; the spruce and hemlock boughs must be
arranged carefully for the beds and the tents pitched over them before
the August dew began to fall. Mr. Leicester was chief of this part of
camp duty, and Miss Barbara, who seemed to enjoy herself more every
moment, was allowed by the girls to help, just that once, about getting
supper. It was growing cool and the fire was not unwelcome, but by and
by a gentle wind began to blow and kept away the midges. Betty began to
think that there would be nothing left for breakfast by the time supper
was half through, but she managed to secrete part of her cherished buns,
and reflected that it would be easy to send to Riverport for further
supplies even if breakfast were a little late. Betty felt a certain care
and responsibility over the whole expedition, it was so delightful to be
looking after papa again; and she was obliged to tell him that he must
not touch the river mud any more, or he would not be fit to go through
the streets of Riverport next day, at which Mr. Leicester, though deeply
attached to his old friends in that town, looked very distressed and
unwilling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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