Country life -- Juvenile fiction; Families -- Juvenile fiction; Farm life -- Juvenile fiction; New York (State) -- Juvenile fiction
Junior, meanwhile, had coolly seated himself on a rock, emptied the
water out of his shoes, and was tying them on again, at the same time
striving with all his might to maintain a stolid composure under
Winnie's grateful embraces and Merton's interrupting hand-shakings. But
when, having become assured of Bobsey's safety, I rushed forward and
embraced Junior in a transport of gratitude, his lip began to quiver
and two great tears mingled with the water that was dripping from his
hair. Suddenly he broke away, took to his heels, and ran toward his
home, as if he had been caught in some mischief and the constable were
after him. I believe that he would rather have had at once all the
strappings his father had ever given him than to have cried in our
presence.
I carried Bobsey home, and his mother, with many questionings and
exclamations of thanksgiving, undressed the little fellow, wrapped him
in flannel, and put him to bed, where he was soon sleeping as quietly
as if nothing had happened.
Mrs. Jones came over, and we made her rubicund face beam and grow more
round, if possible, as we all praised her boy. I returned with her, for
I felt that I wished to thank Junior again and again. But he saw me
coming, and slipped out at the back door. Indeed, the brave, bashful
boy was shy of us for several days. When at last my wife got hold of
him, and spoke to him in a manner natural to mothers, he pooh-poohed
the whole affair.
"I've swum in that crick so often that it was nothin' to me. I only had
to keep cool, and that was easy enough in snow water, and the swift
current would keep us both up. I wish you wouldn't say anything more
about it. It kinder makes me feel--I don't know how--all over, you
know."
But Junior soon learned that we had adopted him into our inmost hearts,
although he compelled us to show our good-will after his own off-hand
fashion.
Sunday was ushered in with another storm, and we spent a long, quiet,
restful day, our hearts full of thankfulness that the great sorrow,
which might have darkened the beginning of our country life, had been
so happily averted.
On Sunday night the wind veered around to the north, and on Monday
morning the sky had a clear metallic hue and the ground was frozen
hard. Bobsey had not taken cold, and was his former self, except that
he was somewhat chastened in spirit and his bump of caution was larger.
I was resolved that the day should witness a good beginning of our
spring work, and told Winnie and Bobsey that they could help me.
Junior, although he yet avoided the house, was ready enough to help
Merton with the sap. Therefore soon after breakfast we all were busy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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