Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
A gentleman friend called to take Ella out to a concert or something
of the sort. Her mother was for having her give it up on account of the
cold. But it so happens that young people, who, having life before them,
can much better afford than their elders to forego particular pleasures,
are much less resigned to doing so. The matter was compromised by piling
so many wraps upon her that she protested it was like being put to bed.
But, before they had been gone fifteen minutes, they were back again,
half frozen. It had proved so shockingly cold they had not dared to
keep on, and persuaded themselves accordingly that the entertainment had
probably been postponed. The streets were entirely deserted; not even a
policeman was visible, and the chilled gas in the street lamps gave but
a dull light.
Ella proposed to give us our regular evening treat of music, but found
the corner of the room where the melodeon stood too cold. Generally the
room is warm in every part, and Jim got upbraided for keeping a poor
fire. But he succeeded in proving that it was better than common; the
weather was the matter. As the evening wore on, the members of the
family gradually edged around the register, finally radiating from it as
a centre like the spokes of a wheel, of which the collected feet of the
group made the hub.
My wife is from the Southern States; and the huge cold of the North had
been a new and rather terrifying experience to her. She had been growing
nervous all the evening, as the signs and portents of the weather
accumulated. She was really half frightened.
"Aren't you afraid it will get so cold it will never be able to get warm
again,--and then what would become of us?" she asked.
Of course we laughed at her, but I think her fears infected me with
a slight, vague anxiety, as the evidences of extraordinary and still
increasing cold went on multiplying. I had so far gotten over my bravado
earlier in the evening that I should have been secretly relieved if the
thermometer had taken a turn.
At length, one by one, the members of the family, with an anticipatory
shiver over the register, went to their rooms, and were doubtless in bed
in the shortest possible time, and I fear without saying their prayers.
Finally my wife suggested that we had better go before we got too cold
to do so.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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