Two Wyoming Girls and Their Homestead Claim: A Story for GirlsMarshall, Caroline Louise
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Two Wyoming Girls and Their Homestead Claim: A Story for Girls
Marshall, Caroline Louise
Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.) -- Juvenile fiction; Homestead law -- West (U.S.) -- Juvenile fiction
"Why, the good it will do is that that old nigger of yours--Joe, you
call him--will tackle up, she'll tie on her bunnet, hop into the
wagon, and away for Dr. Green's office in Antonito, and she'll set as
still as a mouse while the doctor yanks out that tooth; that's the
good it'll do."
"Yes, that might all be if Joe wasn't away with the team."
"Wal', that does rather spoil my program. Goin' to be gone all day,
is he?"
"Yes; maybe for two or three days. He's gone up to the Archer
settlement on the Jerusalem trail."
"Oh, has he? Wal', now!"
Mr. Horton had been sitting all this time with the reins in one hand,
his hat in the other. He now replaced the hat on his head and stood
up. He remained standing so, motionless, for more than a minute,
gazing steadfastly at his horses' ears, while his brow puckered and
his small eyes narrowed like those of a person in deep thought.
Finally he exclaimed:
"Say, I tell you how we'll fix it. You all get in here with me and
come over to my house. Maria, she'll be sure to think of something to
ease that tooth the minute she claps eyes on ye; then, in the mornin',
she or I'll take ye over to the doctor's office, and bring ye home
afterward. Hey, what do you say, Miss Jessie?" for Jessie had by this
time come out of the gate, with Ralph clinging to her hand.
Jessie, the pain of her aching tooth dulled for the moment by sheer
amazement, said that he was very kind. She said it almost timidly. We
had had so little reason hitherto to look for any neighborly kindness
at Mr. Horton's hands.
"Then ye'll go?" Mr. Horton insisted.
Jessie looked inquiringly at me. Her face was swollen and her eyes red
with crying.
"Yes, Jessie, do go. There's no knowing when Joe will be back, and
you--"
"Why, you'd better all come," Mr. Horton interposed again. "There's
two seats in the wagon--plenty of room. Here, where's the little
shaver's hat? Get your hat and climb in here, youngster."
Ralph, who was enterprising and fearless, obeyed without protest.
Peremptorily declining Mr. Horton's invitation to sit with him, he
took his station on the back seat, and from that vantage urged his
sisters to make haste.
"Come, 'Essie, us yeady."
Jessie ran in and got her hat, tossed her old coat over her shoulders
without stopping to put her arms in the sleeves, and, by aid of the
wheel, mounted to the seat beside Ralph. I, too, had put on my hat,
but waited to secure the windows, and then to get the door-key. Mr.
Horton, sitting silent on the front seat, observed my proceedings with
interest; "You're awful careful, ain't ye?" he said, at length, and,
in spite of his friendliness, it seemed to my sensitive fancy that
there was a sneer in his voice. However, that did not greatly trouble
me, for, from my slight speaking acquaintance with him before this, I
had come to believe that he never spoke without one, so I replied,
cheerfully:
"Yes; I guess I am careful enough."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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