Eben Holden: A Tale of the North CountryBacheller, Irving
General
Eben Holden: A Tale of the North Country
Bacheller, Irving
Farm life -- Fiction; Historical fiction; New York (State) -- Fiction
'Wall,' he said, as he continued counting, 'I guess you've earnt it
already. Ye've studied hard an' tuk first honours an' yer goin' where
folks are purty middlin' proud'n haughty. I want ye t' be a reg'lar high
stepper, with a nice, slick coat. There,' he whispered, as he handed me
the money, 'take thet! An' don't ye never tell 'at I g'in it t' ye.'
I could not speak for a little while, as I took the money, for thinking
of the many, many things this grand old man had done for me.
'Do ye think these boots'll do?' he asked, as he held up to the light
the pair he had taken off in the evening.
'They look all right,' I said.
'Ain't got no decent squeak to 'em now, an' they seem t' look kind o'
clumsy. How're your'n?' he asked.
I got them out from under the berth and we inspected them carefully
deciding in the end they would pass muster.
The steward had made up our berths, when he came, and lit our room for
us. Our feverish discussion of attire had carried us far past midnight,
when we decided to go to bed.
'S'pose we musn't talk t' no strangers there 'n New York,' said Uncle
Eb, as he lay down. 'I've read 'n the Tribune how they'll purtend t' be
friends an' then grab yer money an' run like Sam Hill. If I meet any o'
them fellers they're goin' t' find me purty middlin' poor comp'ny.'
We were up and on deck at daylight, viewing the Palisades. The lonely
feeling of an alien hushed us into silence as we came to the noisy and
thickening river craft at the upper end of the city. Countless window
panes were shining in the morning sunlight. This thought was in my mind
that somewhere in the innumerable host on either side was the one dearer
to me than any other. We enquired our way at the dock and walked to
French's Hotel, on Printing House Square. After breakfast we went and
ordered all the grand new things we had planned to get. They would not
be ready for two days, and after talking it over we decided to go and
make a short call. Hope, who had been up and looking for us a long
time, gave us a greeting so hearty we began to get the first feeling of
comfort since landing. She was put out about our having had breakfast, I
remember, and said we must have our things brought there at once.
'I shall have to stay at the hotel awhile,' I said, thinking of the new
clothes.
'Why,' said Mrs Fuller, 'this girl has been busy a week fixing your
rooms and planning for you. We could not hear of your going elsewhere.
It would be downright ingratitude to her.'
A glow of red came into the cheeks of Hope that made me ashamed of my
remark. I thought she looked lovelier in her pretty blue morning gown,
covering a broad expanse of crinoline, than ever before.
'And you've both got to come and hear me sing tonight at the church,'
said she. 'I wouldn't have agreed to sing if I had not thought you were
to be here.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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