Betty Leicester: A Story For GirlsJewett, Sarah Orne
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Betty Leicester: A Story For Girls
Jewett, Sarah Orne
Girls -- Juvenile fiction
"I want to know," said the traveler again. "Well, I don't realize just
what naturalists hold to; there's too many sects a-goin' nowadays for
me. I was brought up good old-fashioned Methodist, but this very mornin'
in the depot I was speakin' with a stranger that said she was a
Calvin-Advent, and they was increasin' fast. She did 'pear as well as
anybody; a nice appearin' woman. Well, there's room for all."
Betty was forced to smile, and tried to hide her face by looking out of
the window. Just then the conductor kindly appeared, and so she pulled
her face straight again.
"Ain't got no brothers an' sisters?" asked the funny old soul.
"No," said Betty. "Papa and I are all alone."
"Mother ain't livin'?" and the kind homely face turned quickly toward
her.
"She died when I was a baby."
"My sakes, how you talk! You don't feel to miss her, but she would have
set everything by you." (There was something truly affectionate in the
way this was said.) "All my child'n are married off," she continued.
"The house seems too big now. I do' know but what, if you don't like
where you're goin', I will take ye in, long's you feel to stop."
"Oh, thank you," said Betty gratefully. "I'm sure I should have a good
time. I'm going to stay with my grandaunts this summer. My father has
gone to Alaska."
"Oh, I do feel to hope it's by sea!" exclaimed the listener.
The cars rattled along and the country grew greener and greener. Betty
remembered it very well, although she had not seen it for four years, so
long it was since she had been in Tideshead before. After seeing the
stonewalled and thatched or tiled roofs of foreign countries, the wooden
buildings of New England had a fragile look as if the wind and rain
would soon spoil and scatter them. The villages and everything but some
of the very oldest farms looked so new and so temporary that Betty
Leicester was much surprised, knowing well that she was going through
some of the very oldest New England towns. She had a delightful sense of
getting home again, which would have pleased her loyal father, and
indeed Betty herself believed that she could not be proud enough of her
native land. Papa always said the faults of a young country were so much
better than the faults of an old one. However, when the train crossed a
bridge near a certain harbor on the way and the young traveler saw an
English flag flying on a ship, it looked very pleasant and familiar.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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