The cabin on the prairiePearson, C. H. (Charles Henry)
General
The cabin on the prairie
Pearson, C. H. (Charles Henry)
Frontier and pioneer life -- United States -- Juvenile fiction
She was garrulous and inquisitive, plying Tom with all sorts of
questions about the minister's family, much to the annoyance of the
lad, who, remembering that there were certain errands yet to be done
that afternoon,--for Tom was now often at the cabin assisting the
minister,--he asked her if she would look after Bub while he went to
the village, saying he thought it likely the family would return
before he did. The old lady rather liked the arrangement, as it would
give her a chance to inspect the housekeeping of the minister's wife;
and, watching Tom till he was well into town, she commenced her
examinations. First she opened the closet door to see how the dishes
were arranged, for she had heard that once on a time the good man's
lady had committed the great crime of writing a book; and she had
often remarked that "anybody that could waste their time in sich a way
must be a master slack housekeeper." To her disappointment, however,
she found that quite as good order, and rather more taste, reigned
there than in her own pantry, but was relieved again a moment at
finding an unwashed plate.
"Just as I thought," she muttered, with a grunt of satisfaction.
Having finished her leisurely inspection of the cupboard, during which
she smelled of the bread to see if it was sour, broke off a bit of the
cake to see if it was extravagant, and sucked some plum sauce from the
ends of her fingers, she started to peer under the bed to ascertain if
there was any dust there, when, hearing a noise, supposing that the
minister had come, she turned and closed the closet door, and reseated
herself, wiping her mouth with her apron as she did so. This change of
posture brought her into full view of the stairs leading to the loft
above, which humble place, under the roof, the clergyman used for a
study when he wished to be _very much_ retired. On the stairs,
descending with solemn step and slow, was Bub, with the minister's old
hat on, which he kept above his eyes by one chubby hand, and the
minister's steel-bowed glasses resting on his nose, and the good man's
dressing-gown trailing magnificently behind. Bub's manner showed that
he felt his consequence much increased by his clerical outfit, and
the benignant gravity of his face was edifying to behold.
"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed the old lady; "what on airth you up to,
you imp o' Satan? Can't you berhave in the minister's house?" and,
seizing the urchin as he landed, she only ceased shaking him as the
spectacles dropped to the floor.
This reception was wholly unexpected to poor Bub, and, as she relieved
him of his ministerial vestments, he sobbed indignantly,--
"Now Bub go wite away, and never come back no more!" and, opening the
door, he marched resolutely out.
The elderly caller had now the congenial duty to do of restoring the
minister's apparel to its proper place overhead; and, glancing out of
the window, to be sure nobody was coming, she ascended to the
missionary's _sanctum sanctorum_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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