Eben Holden: A Tale of the North CountryBacheller, Irving
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Eben Holden: A Tale of the North Country
Bacheller, Irving
Farm life -- Fiction; Historical fiction; New York (State) -- Fiction
The north country lay buried in the snow that Christmastime. Here and
there the steam plough had thrown its furrows, on either side of the
railroad, high above the window line. The fences were muffled in long
ridges of snow, their stakes showing like pins in a cushion of white
velvet. Some of the small trees on the edge of the big timber stood
overdrifted to their boughs. I have never seen such a glory of the
morning as when the sun came up, that day we were nearing home, and lit
the splendour of the hills, there in the land I love. The frosty nap of
the snow glowed far and near with pulsing glints of pale sapphire.
We came into Hillsborough at noon the day before Christmas. Father and
Uncle Eb met us at the depot and mother stood waving her handkerchief
at the door as we drove up. And when we were done with our greetings
and were standing, damp eyed, to warm ourselves at the fire, Uncle Eb
brought his palms together with a loud whack and said:
'Look here, Lizbeth Brower! I want to hev ye tell me if ye ever see a
likelier pair o' colts.
She laughed as she looked at us. In a moment she ran her hand down the
side of Hope's gown. Then she lifted a fold of the cloth and felt of it
thoughtfully.
'How much was that a yard?' she asked a dreamy look in her eyes. 'Wy!
w'y!' she continued as Hope told her the sum. 'Terrible steep! but it
does fit splendid! Oughter wear well too! Wish ye'd put that on if ye go
t' church nex' Sunday.
'O mother!' said Hope, laughing, 'I'll wear my blue silk.
'Come boys 'n girls,' said Elizabeth suddenly, 'dinner's all ready in
the other room.
'Beats the world!' said Uncle Eb, as we sat down at the table. 'Ye do
look gran' to me--ree-markable gran', both uv ye. Tek a premium at any
fair--ye would sartin.'
'Has he won yer affections?' said David laughing as he looked over at
Hope.
'He has,' said she solemnly.
'Affections are a sing'lar kind o' prop'ty,' said Uncle Eb. 'Hain't
good fer nuthin till ye've gin em away. Then, like as not, they git very
valyble.
'Good deal that way with money too,' said Elizabeth Brower.
'I recollec' when Hope was a leetle bit uv a girl' said Uncle Eb, 'she
used to say 'et when she got married she was goin' to hev her husban'
rub my back fer me when it was lame.
'I haven't forgotten it,' said Hope, 'and if you will all come you will
make us happier.
'Good many mouths if feed!' Uncle Ebb remarked.
'I could take in sewing and help some,' said Elizabeth Brower, as she
sipped her tea.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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