Saxe Holm's Stories: First SeriesJackson, Helen Hunt
General
Saxe Holm's Stories: First Series
Jackson, Helen Hunt
Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Reuben also came often to the school-room, and Jane sometimes sat there
with her knitting. A strange content had settled on their lives, in spite
of the sorrow. They saw Draxy calm; she smiled on them as constantly as
ever; and they were very old people, and believed too easily that she was
at peace.
But the Lord had more work still for this sweet woman's hand. This, too,
was suddenly set before her. Late one Saturday afternoon, as she was
returning, surrounded by her escort of laughing children, from the woods,
where they had been for May-flowers, old Deacon Plummer overtook her.
"Mis' Kinney, Mis' Kinney," he began several times, but could get no
further. He was evidently in great perplexity how to say the thing he
wished.
"Mis' Kinney, would you hev--
"Mis' Kinney, me and Deacon Swift's been a sayin'--
"Mis' Kinney, ain't you got--"
Draxy smiled outright. She often smiled now, with cordial good cheer, when
things pleased her.
"What is it, Deacon? out with it. I can't possibly tell unless you make it
plainer."
Thus encouraged, good Deacon Plummer went on: "Well, Mis' Kinney, it's
jest this: Elder Williams has jest sent word he can't come an' preach
to-morrer, and there ain't nobody anywhere's round thet we can get; and
De'n Swift 'n me, we was a thinkin' whether you wouldn't be willin' some
of us should read one o' the Elder's old sermons. O Mis' Kinney, ye don't
know how we all hanker to hear some o' his blessed words agin."
Draxy stood still. Her face altered so that the little children crowded
round her in alarm, and Reuby took hold of her hand. Tears came into her
eyes, and she could hardly speak, but she replied,--
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Plummer, I should be very glad to have you. I'll look
out a sermon to-night, and you can come up to the house in the morning and
get it."
"O Mis' Kinney, do forgive me for speakin'. You have allers seem so borne
up, I never mistrusted that't'd do any harm to ask yer," stammered the
poor Deacon, utterly disconcerted by Draxy's tears, for she was crying
hard now.
"It hasn't done any harm, I assure you. I am very glad to do it," said
Draxy.
"Yes, sir, my mamma very often cries when she's glad," spoke up Reuby, his
little face getting very red, and his lips quivering. "She's very glad,
sir, if she says so."
This chivalrous defense calmed poor Draxy, but did not comfort the Deacon,
who hurried away, saying to himself,--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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