The Garden Party, and Other StoriesMansfield, Katherine
General
The Garden Party, and Other Stories
Mansfield, Katherine
New Zealand -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, New Zealand
Oh, the relief, the difference it made to have the man out of the
house. Their very voices were changed as they called to one another;
they sounded warm and loving and as if they shared a secret. Beryl went
over to the table. “Have another cup of tea, mother. It’s still hot.”
She wanted, somehow, to celebrate the fact that they could do what they
liked now. There was no man to disturb them; the whole perfect day was
theirs.
“No, thank you, child,” said old Mrs. Fairfield, but the way at that
moment she tossed the boy up and said “a-goos-a-goos-a-ga!” to him
meant that she felt the same. The little girls ran into the paddock
like chickens let out of a coop.
Even Alice, the servant-girl, washing up the dishes in the kitchen,
caught the infection and used the precious tank water in a perfectly
reckless fashion.
“Oh, these men!” said she, and she plunged the teapot into the bowl and
held it under the water even after it had stopped bubbling, as if it
too was a man and drowning was too good for them.
IV
“Wait for me, Isa-bel! Kezia, wait for me!”
There was poor little Lottie, left behind again, because she found it
so fearfully hard to get over the stile by herself. When she stood on
the first step her knees began to wobble; she grasped the post. Then
you had to put one leg over. But which leg? She never could decide. And
when she did finally put one leg over with a sort of stamp of
despair—then the feeling was awful. She was half in the paddock still
and half in the tussock grass. She clutched the post desperately and
lifted up her voice. “Wait for me!”
“No, don’t you wait for her, Kezia!” said Isabel. “She’s such a little
silly. She’s always making a fuss. Come on!” And she tugged Kezia’s
jersey. “You can use my bucket if you come with me,” she said kindly.
“It’s bigger than yours.” But Kezia couldn’t leave Lottie all by
herself. She ran back to her. By this time Lottie was very red in the
face and breathing heavily.
“Here, put your other foot over,” said Kezia.
“Where?”
Lottie looked down at Kezia as if from a mountain height.
“Here where my hand is.” Kezia patted the place.
“Oh, _there_ do you mean!” Lottie gave a deep sigh and put the second
foot over.
“Now—sort of turn round and sit down and slide,” said Kezia.
“But there’s nothing to sit down _on_, Kezia,” said Lottie.
She managed it at last, and once it was over she shook herself and
began to beam.
“I’m getting better at climbing over stiles, aren’t I, Kezia?”
Lottie’s was a very hopeful nature.
The pink and the blue sunbonnet followed Isabel’s bright red sunbonnet
up that sliding, slipping hill. At the top they paused to decide where
to go and to have a good stare at who was there already. Seen from
behind, standing against the skyline, gesticulating largely with their
spades, they looked like minute puzzled explorers.
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