Marsena, and Other Stories of the WartimeFrederic, Harold
History
Marsena, and Other Stories of the Wartime
Frederic, Harold
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Arphaxed had watched her intently. He nodded now, and blinked at the
moisture gathering in his old eyes. "I could e'en a'most 'a' thought it
was Alvy talkin'," was what he said. Then he turned abruptly, but we
all knew, without further words, that what Serena had suggested was to
be done.
The men-folk, wondering doubtless much among themselves, moved slowly
off toward the house or the cow-barns, leaving the two women alone. A
minute of silence passed before we saw Serena creep gently up to Aunt
Em's side, and lay the thin white hand again upon her shoulder. This
time it was not shaken off, but stretched itself forward, little by
little, until its palm rested against Aunt Em's further cheek. We heard
the tin-pail fall resonantly against the stones under the rail-fence,
and there was a confused movement as if the two women were somehow
melting into one.
"Come on, Sid!" said Marcellus Jones to me; "let's start them cows
along. If there's anything I hate to see it's women cryin' on each
other's necks."
The Eve of the Fourth
THE EVE OF THE FOURTH
It was well on toward evening before this Third of July all at once
made itself gloriously different from other days in my mind.
There was a very long afternoon, I remember, hot and overcast, with
continual threats of rain, which never came to anything. The other
boys were too excited about the morrow to care for present play. They
sat instead along the edge of the broad platform-stoop in front of
Delos Ingersoll's grocery-store, their brown feet swinging at varying
heights above the sidewalk, and bragged about the manner in which they
contemplated celebrating the anniversary of their Independence. Most of
the elder lads were very independent indeed; they were already secure
in the parental permission to stay up all night, so that the Fourth
might be ushered in with its full quota of ceremonial. The smaller
urchins pretended that they also had this permission, or were sure
of getting it. Little Denny Cregan attracted admiring attention by
vowing that he should remain out, even if his father chased him with a
policeman all around the ward, and he had to go and live in a cave in
the gulf until he was grown up.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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