Sam Lawson's Oldtown Fireside Stories: With Illustrations — John Shaqi
Sam Lawson's Oldtown Fireside Stories: With IllustrationsStowe, Harriet Beecher
General
Sam Lawson's Oldtown Fireside Stories: With Illustrations
Stowe, Harriet Beecher
New England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Short stories, American; Storytelling -- Fiction
“Wal, now comes the strange part o' my story: Ruth was one o' the kind
that _hes the gift o' seein'. She was born with a veil over her face!_”
This mysterious piece of physiological information about Ruth was given
with a look and air that announced something very profound and awful;
and we both took up the inquiry, “Born with a veil over her face? How
should _that_ make her see?”
“Wal, boys, how should I know? But the fact _is so_. There's those as is
wal known as lies the gift o' seein' what others can't see: they can
see through walls and houses; they can see people's hearts; they can
see what's to come. They don't know nothin' how 'tis, but this 'ere
knowledge comes to 'em: it's a gret gift; and that sort's born with the
veil over their faces. Ruth was o' these 'ere. Old Granny Badger she
was the knowingest old nuss in all these parts; and she was with Ruth's
mother when she was born, and she told Lady Lothrop all about it. Says
she, 'You may depend upon it that child 'll have the “_second-sight_,”'
says she. Oh, that 'are fact was wal known! Wal, that was the reason
why Jeff Sullivan couldn't come it round Ruth tho' he was silkier than
a milkweed-pod, and jest about as patient as a spider in his hole a
watchin' to got his grip on a fly. Ruth wouldn't argue with him, and she
wouldn't flout him; but she jest shut herself up in herself, and kept a
lookout on him; but she told your Aunt Lois jest what she thought about
him.
“Wal, in about six months, come the news that the Gineral was dead. He
dropped right down in his tracks, dead with apoplexy, as if he had been
shot; and Lady Maxwell she writ a long letter to my lady and Ruth. Ye
see, he'd got to be Sir Thomas Sullivan over there; and he was a comin'
home to take 'em all over to England to live in grande'r. Wal, my Lady
Sullivan (she was then, ye see) she took it drefful hard. Ef they'd a
been the lovingest couple in the world, she couldn't a took it harder.
Aunt Polly, she said it was all 'cause she thought so much of him, that
she fit him so. There's women that thinks so much o' their husbands,
that they won't let 'em hev no peace o' their life; and I expect it war
so with her poor soul! Any way, she went right down smack when she heard
he was dead. She was abed, sick, when the news come; and she never spoke
nor smiled, jest turned her back to everybody, and kinder wilted and
wilted, and was dead in a week. And there was poor little Ruth left all
alone in the world, with neither kith nor kin but Jeff.
“Wal, when the funeral was over, and the time app'inted to read the will
and settle up matters, there wa'n't no will to be found nowhere, high
nor low.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account