The best stories of Sarah Orne Jewett, Volume 1 (of 2)Jewett, Sarah Orne
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The best stories of Sarah Orne Jewett, Volume 1 (of 2)
Jewett, Sarah Orne
American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
“Would you like to have me go too?” I asked frankly, but not without a
humble fear that I might have mistaken the purpose of this latest plan.
“Oh certain, dear!” answered my friend affectionately. “Oh no, I never
thought o’ any one else for comp’ny, if it’s convenient for you, long ’s
poor mother ain’t come. I ain’t nothin’ like so handy with a conveyance
as I be with a good bo’t. Comes o’ my early bringing-up. I expect we’ve
got to make that great high wagon do. The tires want settin’ and ’tis
all loose-jointed, so I can hear it shackle the other side o’ the ridge.
We’ll put the basket in front. I ain’t goin’ to have it bouncin’ an’
twirlin’ all the way. Why, I’ve been makin’ some nice hearts and rounds
to carry.”
These were signs of high festivity, and my interest deepened moment by
moment.
“I’ll go down to the Beggs’ and get the horse just as soon as I finish
my breakfast,” said I. “Then we can start whenever you are ready.”
Mrs. Todd looked cloudy again. “I don’t know but you look nice enough to
go just as you be,” she suggested doubtfully. “No, you wouldn’t want to
wear that pretty blue dress o’ yourn ’way up country. ’Tain’t dusty now,
but it may be comin’ home. No, I expect you’d rather not wear that and
the other hat.”
“Oh yes. I shouldn’t think of wearing these clothes,” said I, with
sudden illumination. “Why, if we’re going up country and are likely to
see some of your friends, I’ll put on my blue dress and you must wear
your watch; I am not going at all if you mean to wear the big hat.”
“Now you’re behavin’ pretty,” responded Mrs. Todd, with a gay toss of
her head and a cheerful smile, as she came across the room, bringing a
saucerful of wild raspberries, a pretty piece of salvage from
supper-time. “I was cast down when I see you come to breakfast. I didn’t
think ’twas just what you’d select to wear to the reunion, where you’re
goin’ to meet everybody.”
“What reunion do you mean?” I asked, not without amazement. “Not the
Bowden Family’s? I thought that was going to take place in September.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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