Meadow Grass: Tales of New England LifeBrown, Alice
General
Meadow Grass: Tales of New England Life
Brown, Alice
New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"See that little swampy patch!" she said, stopping when they had
rounded the curve in the road. "A week or two ago, that was all alive
with redbud flowers. I dunno the right name on 'em, an' I don't care.
Redbirds, I call 'em. I went over there, one day, an' walked along
between the hummocks, spush! spush! You won't find a nicer feelin' than
that, wherever ye go. Take off your shoes an' stockin's, an' wade into
a swamp! Warm, coarse grass atop! Then warm, black mud, an' arter that,
a layer all nice an' cold that goes down to Chiny, fur's I know! That
was the day I meant to git some thoroughwort over there, to dry, but I
looked at the redbird flowers so long I didn't have time, an' I
never've been sence."
Molly laughed out, with a pretty, free ripple in her voice.
"You're always sayin' that, Dilly! You never have time for anything but
doin' nothin'!"
A bright little sparkle came into Dilly's eyes, and she laughed, too.
"Why, that's what made me give' up nussin' two year ago," she said,
happily. "I wa'n't havin' no time at all. I couldn't live my proper
life. I al'ays knew I should come to that, so I'd raked an' scraped,
an' put into the bank, till I thought I'd got enough to buy me a mite
o' flour while I lived, an' a pine coffin arter I died; an' then I jest
set up my Ebenezer I'd be as free's a bird. Freer, I guess I be, for
they have to scratch pretty hard, come cold weather, an' I bake me a
'tater, an' then go clippin' out over the crust, lookin' at the bare
twigs. Oh, it's complete! If I could live this way, I guess a thousand
years'd be a mighty small dose for me. Look at that goldenrod, over
there by the stump! That's the kind that's got the most smell."
Molly broke one of the curving plumes.
"I don't see as it smells at all," she said, still sniffing delicately.
"Le'me take it! Why, yes, it does, too! Everything smells _some_.
Oftentimes it's so faint it's more like a feelin' than a smell. But
there! you ain't a witch, as I be!"
"I wish you wouldn't say that!" put in Molly, courageously. "You make
people think you are."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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