Eben Holden: A Tale of the North Country — John Shaqi
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
I was running behind the sledge and standing on the brake hooks going
downhill. He made me get in when he saw the sun dog, and let our
horse--a rat-tailed bay known as Old Doctor--go at a merry pace.
We were awed to silence when we came in sight of Hillsborough, with
spires looming far into the sky, as it seemed to me then, and buildings
that bullied me with their big bulk, so that I had no heart for the
spending of the two shillings Uncle Eb had given me. Such sublimity
of proportion I have never seen since; and yet it was all very small
indeed. The stores had a smell about them that was like chloroform in
its effect upon me; for, once in them, I fell into a kind of trance
and had scarce sense enough to know my own mind. The smart clerks, who
generally came and asked, 'Well, young man, what can I do for you?' I
regarded with fear and suspicion. I clung the tighter to my coin always,
and said nothing, although I saw many a trinket whose glitter went to
my soul with a mighty fascination. We both stood staring silently at the
show cases, our tongues helpless with awe and wonder. Finally, after a
whispered conference, Hope asked for a 'silver no nothing', and provoked
so much laughter that we both fled to the sidewalk. Uncle Eb had to do
our buying for us in the end.
'Wall, what'll ye hev?' he said to me at length.
I tried to think-it was no easy thing to do after all I had seen.
'Guess I'll take a jacknife,' I whispered.
'Give this boy a knife,' he demanded. 'Wants t' be good 'n sharp. Might
hev t' skin a swift with it sometime.'
'What ye want?' he asked, then turning to Hope.
'A doll,' she whispered.
'White or black?' said he.
'White,' said she, 'with dark eyes and hair.'
'Want a reel, splendid, firs'-class doll,' he said to the clerk. 'Thet
one'll do, there, with the sky-blue dress 'n the pink apron.'
We were worn out with excitement when we left for home under lowering
skies. We children lay side by side under the robes, the doll between
us, and were soon asleep. It was growing dark when Uncle Eb woke us,
and the snow was driving in at the doorway. The air was full of snow, I
remember, and Old Doctor was wading to his knees in a drift. We were up
in the hills and the wind whistled in our little chimney. Uncle Eb had
a serious look in his face. The snow grew deeper and Old Doctor went
slower every moment.
'Six mild from home,' Uncle Eb muttered, as he held up to rest a moment.
'Six mild from home. 'Fraid we're in fer a night uv it.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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