SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 104 | Next

Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616

"Twilight Stories"


"What a haven of safety the low, unpainted old farm-house looked
to us, as we rushed, pell-mell, into the dooryard, never
noticing, in our own relief, the ungracious scowl with which the
master and mistress of the house regarded our advent.
"Aunt Polly soon explained matters, taking care to assure the
inhospitable pair that our parents would amply recompense them
for the trouble and expense we must, of course, be to them.
"The farmer held a whispered consultation with his wife, and I
remember well his harsh, loud tones as he came back to Aunt
Polly:
" 'They'll HAVE to stay, I s'pose; there don't seem no help for
it now. There's pertaters in the cellar, an' they can roast an'
eat what they want. I'll give 'em salt an' what milk an' brown
bread they want, an' that's what they'll have to live on for the
present. As for housin' 'em, the boys can sleep on the hay in
the barn, an' the girls can camp down on rugs an' comforters on
the kitchen floor. that's the best I can do, an' if they ain't
satisfied they can go furder.'
"I remember just how he looked down at the troubled, childish
faces upturned to his own, as if half hoping we might conclude to
wander yet farther away from our imperilled homes; but Aunt Polly
hastened to answer:
" 'Oh, we'll get along nicely with milk for the little ones, and
potatoes and salt for the big boys and girls, and we won't
trouble you any more nor any longer than we can help, Mr.
Gubtil.'
"She stood upon the door-stone beside him as she spoke, a little,
bent, slightly deformed figure, with a face shrivelled and faded
like a winter-russet apple in spring-time, and a dress patched
and darned till one scarcely could tell what the original was
like, in a striking contrast to the tall, broad-shouldered, hale
old man, whose iron frame had defied the storms of more than
seventy winters; but I remember how he seemed to me a mere pigmy
by the side of the generous, large-hearted woman whose tones and
gestures had a protectiveness, a strength born of love and pity,
that reassured us trembling little fugitives in spite of our
ungracious reception.


Pages:
92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116