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Authors: Harriet Beecher Stowe

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Harriet Beecher Stowe : Three Novels (180 page)

BOOK: Harriet Beecher Stowe : Three Novels
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Page 1028
voice, as if he feared the driver in the rattling farm-wagon might hear them.
"O, what a nice little house the trees make here!" said Tina. "We are as snug here and as warm as can be; and only see what a nice white-and-green carpet there is all over the rock!"
The rock, to be sure, was all frothed over with a delicate white foam of moss, which, later in the day, would have crackled and broken in brittle powder under their footsteps, but which now, saturated by the heavy night-dews, only bent under them, a soft, elastic carpet.
Their fears were soon allayed when, peeping like scared partridges from their cover, they saw a farm-wagon go rattling by from the opposite direction to that in which Miss Asphyxia lived.
"O, it's nobody for us; it comes the other way," said the boy.
It was, in fact, Primus King, going on his early way to preside over the solemnities of pig-killing.
"Then, Hensel, we are free," said the little girl; "nobody will catch us now. They could no more find us in this lot than they could find a little, little tiny pin in the hay-mow."
"No, indeed, Tina; we are safe now," said the boy.
"Why don't you call me Grettel? We will play be Hensel and Grettel; and who knows what luck will come to us?"
"Well, Grettel then," said the boy, obediently. "You sit now, and spread out your frock in the sun to dry, while I get out some breakfast for you. Old Aunty Smith has filled my basket with all sorts of good things."
"And nice old Sol,he gave us his pie," said Tina. "I love Sol, though he is a funny-looking man. You ought to see Sol's hand, it's so big! And his feet,why, one of his shoes would make a good boat for me! But he's a queer old dear, though, and I love him."
"What shall we eat first?" said the boy,"the bread and butter, or the cookies, or the doughnuts, or the pie?"
"Let's try a little of all of them," said young madam.
"You know, Tina," said the boy, in a slow, considerate way, "that we must take care of this, because we don't know when we'll get any more. There's got to be a dinner and a supper got out of this at any rate."

 

Page 1029
"O, well, Hensel, you do just as you please with it, then; only let's begin with Sol's pie and some of that nice cheese, for I am so hungry! And then, when we have had our breakfast, I mean to lie down in the sun, and have a nap on this pretty white moss. O Harry, how pretty this moss is! There are bright little red things in it, as bright as mother's scarlet cloak. But, O Harry, look, quick! don't say a word! There's a squirrel! How bright his little eyes are! Let's give him some of our breakfast."
Harry broke off a crumb of cake and threw it to the little striped-backed stranger.
"Why, he's gone like a wink," said the girl. "Come back, little fellow; we sha' n't hurt you."
"O, hush, Tina, he's coming! I see his bright eyes. He's watching that bit of cake."
"There, he's got it and is off!" said Tina, with a shriek of delight. "See him race up that tree with it!"
"He's going to take it home to his wife."
"His wife!" said Tina, laughing so hard at Harry's wit that she was obliged to lay down her pie. "Has he got a wife?"
"Why, of course he has," said Harry, with superior wisdom.
"I'm
your
wife, ain't I?" said Tina, contentedly.
"No. You're my little sister, and I take care of you," said the boy. "But people can't have their sisters for wives; the Bible says so."
"Well, I can be just
like
your wife; and I'll mend your clothes and knit your stockings when I get bigger."
To which practical view of matrimonial duties Harry gave a grave assent.
Not a striped-backed squirrel, or a bobolink, or a cat-bird, in the whole pasture-lot, had better spirits than our two little travellers. They were free; they were together; the sun was shining and birds were singing; and as for the future, it was with them as with the birds. The boy, to be sure, had a share of forethought and care, and deemed himself a grown man acting with most serious responsibility for his light-headed little sister; but even in him this was only a half-awakening from the dream-land of childhood.
When they had finished their breakfast, he bethought him

 

Page 1030
of his morning prayers, and made Tina kneel down beside him while he repeated psalm and hymn and prayer, in which she joined with a very proper degree of attention. When he had finished, she said, "Do you know, Hensel, I have n't said my prayers a single once since I've been at Miss Asphyxia's?"
"Why, Tina!"
"Well, you see, there was n't anybody to say them to, now mother is gone; and you were not there."
"But you say them to God, Tina."
"O, he's so far off, and I'm so little, I can't say them to him. I must say them to somebody I can see. Harry, where is mother gone?"
"She is gone to heaven, Tina."
"Where is heaven?"
"It's up in the sky, Tina," said the boy, looking up into the deep, cloudless blue of an October sky, which, to say the truth, is about as celestial a thing as a mortal child can look into; and as he looked, his great blue eyes grew large and serious with thoughts of his mother's last wonderful words.
"If it's up in the sky, why did they dig down into the ground, and put her in that hole?" said the little sceptic.
"It is her soul that went up. Her body is planted like a beautiful flower. She will come up by and by; and we shall see her again, if we are good children."
Tina lay back on the white moss, with only a fringy bough of white-pine between her and the deep, eternal blue, where the thinnest films of white clouds were slowly sailing to and fro. Her spiritual musings grew, to say the truth, rather confused. She was now very tired with her night tramp; and the long fringes fell over her great, dark eyes, as a flower shuts itself, and she was soon asleep.
The boy sat watching her awhile, feeling soothed by the calm, soft sunshine, and listening to the thousand sweet lullaby-notes which Nature is humming to herself, while about her great world-housework, in a calm October morning. The locusts and katydids grated a drowsy, continuous note to each other from every tree and bush; and from a neighboring thicket a lively-minded cat-bird was giving original variations and imitations of all sorts of bird voices and warblings; while from behind the tangled thicket which

 

Page 1031
fringed its banks came the prattle of a hidden river, whose bright brown waters were gossiping, in a pleasant, constant chatter, with the many-colored stones on the bottom; and when the light breezes wandered hither and thither, as your idle breezes always will be doing, they made little tides and swishes of sound among the pine-trees, like the rising and falling of sunny waters on the sea-shore.
Altogether, it was not long before Harry's upright watch over his sister subsided into a droop upon one elbow, and finally the little curly head went suddenly down on to his sister's shoulder; and then they were fast asleep,as nice a little pair of babes in the wood as ever the robins could cover up. They did not awake till it was almost noon. The sun was shining warm and cloudless, and every bit of dew had long been dried; and Tina, in refreshed spirits, proposed that they should explore the wonders of the pasture-lot,especially that they should find out where the river was whose waters they heard gurgling behind the leafy wall of wild vines.
"We can leave our basket here in our little house, Hensel. See, I set it in here, way, way in among the pine-trees; and that's my little green closet."
So the children began picking their way through the thicket, guided by the sound of the water.
"O Tina!" said the boy; "look there, over your head!"
The object pointed out was a bough of a wild grape-vine, heavily laden with ripe purple grapes.
"O, wild grapes!" said Tina. "Harry, do get them!"
Harry soon pulled the bough down within reach, and the children began helping themselves.
"I'm going to take an apronful up to the tree, and put into our closet," said Tina; "and we shall have a nice store there."
"But, Tina, we can't live there on the rock," said the boy; "we must walk on and get to Oldtown some time."
"O, well, we have the whole long, long day for it," said the girl, "and we may as well have a good time now; so, when I've put up these grapes, we'll see where the river is."
A little scrambling and tearing through vines soon brought the children down to the banks of a broad, rather shallow river, whose waters were of that lustrous yellow-brown which makes every stone gleam up from the bottom in mellow col-

 

Page 1032
ors, like the tints through the varnish of an old picture. The banks were a rampart of shrubbery and trees hung with drapery of wild vines, now in the brilliancy of autumnal coloring. It is not wonderful that exclamations of delight and wonder burst from both children. An old hemlock that hung slantwise over the water opposite was garlanded and interwoven, through all its dusky foliage, with wreaths and pendants of the Virginia creeper, now burning in the brilliant carmine and scarlet hues of autumn. Great, soft, powdery clumps of golden-rod projected their heads from the closely interwoven thicket, and leaned lovingly over the stream, while the royal purple of tall asters was displayed in bending plumage at their side. Here and there, a swamp-maple seemed all one crimson flame; while greener shrubbery and trees, yet untouched by frosts, rose up around it, as if purposely to give background and relief to so much color. The rippling surface of the waters, as they dashed here and there over the stones, gave back colored flashes from the red, yellow, crimson, purple, and green of the banks; while ever and anon little bright leaves came sailing down the stream, all moist and brilliant, like so many floating gems. The children clapped their hands, and began, with sticks, fishing them towards the shore. ''These are our little boats," they said. So they were,fairy boats, coming from the land of nowhere, and going on to oblivion, shining and fanciful, like the little ones that played with them.
"I declare," said Tina, "I mean to take off my shoes and stockings, and wade out to that little island where those pretty white stones are. You go with me."
"Well, Tina, wait till I can hold you."
And soon both the little pairs of white feet were slipping and spattering among the pebbles at the bottom. On the way, Tina made many efforts to entrap the bright rings of sunlight on the bottom, regardless of the logic with which Harry undertook to prove to her that it was nothing but the light, and that she could not catch it; and when they came to the little white gravelly bank, they sat down and looked around them with great content.
"We're on a desolate island, are n't we, Hensel?" said Tina. "I like desolate islands," she added, looking around her, with the air of one who had had a wide experience of the article.

 

Page 1033
"The banks here are so high, and the bushes so thick, that Miss Asphyxia could not find us if she were to try. We'll make our home here."
"Well, I think, Tina, darling, that it won't do for us to stay here very long," said Harry. "We must try to get to some place where I can find something to do, and some good, kind woman to take care of you."
"O Harry, what's the use of thinking of that,it's so bright and pleasant, and it's so long since I've had you to play with! Do let's have one good, pleasant day alone among the flowers! See how beautiful everything is!" she added, "and it's so warm and quiet and still, and all the birds and squirrels and butterflies are having such a good time. I don't want anything better than to play about out in the woods with you."
"But where shall we sleep nights, Tina?"
"O, it was so pleasant last night, and the moon shone so bright, I would not be afraid to cuddle down under a bush with you, Harry."
"Ah, Tina! you don't know what may come. The moon don't shine all night, and there may be cold and wind and rain, and then where would we be? Come, darling, let's go on; we can walk in the fields by the river, and so get down to the place Sol told us about."
So at last the little fanciful body was persuaded to wade back from her desolate island, and to set out once more on her pilgrimage. But even an older head than hers might have been turned by the delights of that glorious October day, and gone off into a vague trance of bliss, in which the only good of life seemed to be in luxurious lounging and dreamy enjoyment of the passing hour. Nature in New England is, for the most part, a sharp, determined matron, of the Miss Asphyxia school. She is shrewd, keen, relentless, energetic. She runs through the seasons a merciless express-train, on which you may jump if you can, at her hours, but which knocks you down remorselessly if you come in her way, and leaves you hopelessly behind if you are late. Only for a few brief weeks in the autumn does this grim, belligerent female condescend to be charming; but when she does set about it, the veriest Circe of enchanted isles could not do it better. Airs more dreamy, more hazy, more full of purple light and lustre, never
BOOK: Harriet Beecher Stowe : Three Novels
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