Continental Monthly, Vol. 4, No 3, September 1863: Devoted to Literature and National PolicyVarious
History
Continental Monthly, Vol. 4, No 3, September 1863: Devoted to Literature and National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
I wasn't able to sit up for several days, and they kept me very still,
and wouldn't let me ask questions; only Calanthy told me that Dr. Basset
said I'd had a great shock, and it would take me some time to get over
it. I had a cut on my forehead, too, but it healed up pretty soon. It
seemed as if Calanthy and Polly Jane couldn't do enough for me, and
whenever father came in the room he was as good to me as ever, and I
could see that he could hardly keep from crying when I spoke to him.
When I got well enough to sit in a rocking chair, and have my knitting
work, father came in one morning, and brought Uncle Ezra with him. I was
very glad to see uncle, though I was ashamed to have him know how vain
and wicked I'd been; but I'd thought a good deal while I was sick, and I
made up my mind to do right, whatever came of it. So I told him how
wrong I had acted, and how sorry I felt for it, and then I asked him to
tell me _how_ my life had been saved, and if any one was killed, and all
about the accident. I had my memory by that time, and recollected all I
have been telling.
Uncle Ezra took hold of my hand while I was speaking, and then he said,
'We have great reason to be thankful, my child, that we have you with us
yet; you've had a narrow escape; but I'm sure it will be such a lesson
to you that you'll never disobey your father again. You are young,
Dimpey, and may have many years to live; but I hope you'll always be our
own dear honest child, and make as good a woman as your mother was.'
Then Uncle Ezra told me that when Ned Hassel jumped out of his wagon,
leaving me in it--the coward!--Race Miller pushed his way through the
elder bushes, and caught the horses by their heads. They struggled, and
threw him down; but the off horse fell with him, and partly on him. This
jerked the wagon against the bushes, and the wheel, which was slipping
over the edge of the road, caught against a big stone, which held it a
minute. John Mills had jumped to the ground at that minute. He pitched
the seat out of Ned's wagon, and he and Biel dragged me out of the back
in less time than it takes to tell it. Then the traces all gave way, the
horse that had fallen struggled to his feet, the wagon went over, and
clattered down the side of the mountain, and the horses started to run,
but were stopped by some of the boys who were walking. I had struck my
head as I fell, and lay senseless, but our boys carried me down to High
Farm, and got a large wagon and a bed to put me on. They _do_ say Joe
pushed Ned Hassel out of the way, and dared him to touch me. In the mean
time, John Mills and the others helped up Race Miller; but one of his
arms was broken, and he was so faint he could not stand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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