Bildungsromans; Feminist fiction; Women -- Employment -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
“Wal, now, Mis Sterlin’, you’ve no idee how tickled we all was when Mr.
David came, and told us you was goin’ to have a galy here to-day. It
was so kind of providential, for ’Lisha was invited out to a day’s
pleasuring so I could leave jest as wal as not. The childern’s ben
hankerin’ to come the wust kind, and go plummin’ as they did last
month, though I told ’em berries was gone weeks ago. I reelly thought
I’d never get ’em here whole, they trained so in that bus. Wash would
go on the step, and kep fallin’ off; Gusty’s hat blew out a winder;
them two bad boys tumbled round loose; and dear little Victory set like
a lady, only I found she’d got both feet in the basket right atop of
the birthday cake, I made a puppose for Christie.”
“It hasn’t hurt it a bit; there was a cloth over it, and I like it all
the better for the marks of Totty’s little feet, bless ’em!” and
Christie cuddled the culprit with one hand while she revealed the
damaged delicacy with the other, wondering inwardly what evil star was
always in the ascendant when Mrs. Wilkins made cake.
“Now, my dear, you jest go and have a good frolic with them childern,
I’m a goin’ to git dinner, and you a goin’ to play; so we don’t want to
see no more of you till the bell rings,” said Mrs. Wilkins pinning up
her gown, and “shooing” her brood out of the room, which they entirely
filled.
Catching up her hat Christie obeyed, feeling as much like a child as
any of the excited six. The revels that followed no pen can justly
record, for Goths and Vandals on the rampage but feebly describes the
youthful Wilkinses when their spirits effervesced after a month’s
bottling up in close home quarters.
David locked the greenhouse door the instant he saw them; and pervaded
the premises generally like a most affable but very watchful policeman,
for the ravages those innocents committed much afflicted him. Yet he
never had the heart to say a word of reproof, when he saw their
raptures over dandelions, the relish with which they devoured fruit,
and the good it did the little souls and bodies to enjoy unlimited
liberty, green grass, and country air, even for a day.
Christie usually got them into the big meadow as soon as possible, and
there let them gambol at will; while she sat on the broken bough of an
apple-tree, and watched her flock like an old-fashioned shepherdess.
To-day she did so; and when the children were happily sailing boats,
tearing to and fro like wild colts, or discovering the rustic treasures
Nurse Nature lays ready to gladden little hearts and hands, Christie
sat idly making a garland of green brakes, and ruddy sumach leaves
ripened before the early frosts had come.
[Illustration: A FRIENDLY CHAT.]
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account