The Path of Duty, and Other StoriesCaswell, Harriet S. (Harriet Sophia)
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The Path of Duty, and Other Stories
Caswell, Harriet S. (Harriet Sophia)
Country life -- Fiction; Family -- Fiction; Friendship -- Fiction; Pastoral fiction; Short stories
When going down stairs the next morning I was surprised, the hour was
so early, at finding my uncle and aunt, with their two farm servants,
already seated at the breakfast table. I must confess that these two
farm servants seemed to me strangely out of place, sitting thus
familiarly at the same table with their master and mistress. My uncle
introduced them to me, by the names of Mr. Barnes and Mr. Hawkins, their
Christian names being Solomon and Obadiah, and by those names they were
mostly called in my uncle's family. Solomon, was a good humored looking
man of some thirty years of age; he had, I afterwards learned, been for
some years in my uncle's employ. Obadiah was a youth of about seventeen
years of age. His extreme bashfulness in the presence of strangers in
general, and of ladies in particular, caused him to appear very awkward.
Added to this, he was, to use a common term, very homely in his personal
appearance. His hair was very light, almost white; his eyes too were of
a very light color, and uncommonly large and prominent. He was also
freckled, and very much sunburned. He seemed very much over-grown, and
his general appearance suggested the idea that he must be in his own
way--a position of which he seemed painfully conscious. He had a most
unpleasant habit of keeping his eyes constantly in motion. As I was
seated directly opposite to him at the breakfast table, I found it very
difficult to restrain my inclination to laughter, for I could not raise
my eyes without encountering one of those furtive glances. The idea
occurred to me that he was meditating on some means of escape from the
table, and it was with much difficulty that I maintained a becoming
gravity. I was very glad, however, when my uncle made some remark which
provoked a general laugh; but I am ashamed to acknowledge that I looked
to see what effect a smile would have upon the countenance of Obadiah;
but my curiosity, however, was not to be gratified, for, judging by his
appearance, his thoughts were of too serious a nature to admit laughter.
I was glad when breakfast was over, and I am certain that Obadiah was
more than glad.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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