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I passed a little field of buckwheat that had been cut some days and had fully ripened. A woman was threshing out the grain with a flail upon a spread canvas, surrounded by a circle of purple-tinted cones, the sheaves leaning together. Now the wide level moor returned, but Nature was not quite the same here as she had been before. The vast expanse was dotted over with dark little juniper bushes.
She would be done with dish-washing soon. She even found it in her heart to pity her step-mother, who was giving vent to her suppressed wrath in mighty strokes of her pudding-stick through a large bowl of buckwheat batter. She was not going to Boston. When the chores were done, she caught up the fretful Polly and carried her upstairs, saying the magic name over softly to herself.
"Ah but it would be twice as good if you could hear her read it," said Edith, fluttering over the leaves of the magazine, "she reads it so well. It's so funny about the coffee and buckwheat cakes." "What is that, Edith?" said her mother. "Something Mr. Carleton is going to read for me, mamma." "Don't you trouble Mr. Carleton." "It won't trouble him, mamma he promised of his own accord."
As every man has his hobby-liking, mine is for a real farm-lane fenced by old chestnut-rails gray-green with dabs of moss and lichen, copious weeds and briers growing in spots athwart the heaps of stray-pick' d stones at the fence bases irregular paths worn between, and horse and cow tracks all characteristic accompaniments marking and scenting the neighborhood in their seasons apple-tree blossoms in forward April pigs, poultry, a field of August buckwheat, and in another the long flapping tassels of maize and so to the pond, the expansion of the creek, the secluded-beautiful, with young and old trees, and such recesses and vistas.
Even when plundering was avoided there were short commons for those who clung to the General. Buckwheat, common wheat, Rye and Indn. Corn was the composition of the Meal which made their bread. Even the horses suffered, and Washington wrote to the quartermaster-general, "Sir, my horses I am told have not had a mouthful of long or short forage for three days.
The train gave the Marches another, and last, view of it as they slowly drew out of the city, and began to run through a level country walled with far-off hills; past fields of buckwheat showing their stems like coral under their black tops; past peasant houses changing their wonted shape to taller and narrower forms; past sluggish streams from which the mist rose and hung over the meadows, under a red sunset, glassy clear till the manifold factory chimneys of Dusseldorf stained it with their dun smoke.
Lezhnyov? inquired Pandalevsky, as though he were surprised. 'Yes, Mihailo Mihailitch Lezhnyov, replied Volintsev. 'Well, good-bye; it's time I was off to the field; they are sowing your buckwheat. Mr. Pandalevsky will escort you home. And Volintsev rode off at a trot. 'With the greatest of pleasure! cried Konstantin Diomiditch, offering Alexandra Pavlovna his arm.
“As I love my mother,” she said, “is there any sense in this, my dear brother? Are you a God-fearing man? So you think that you will really be doing a good turn to Thaddeus if you make a sower of buckwheat out of the young man! You will close the world to him! Believe me, some time he will curse you! To think of burying such talent in the woods and the garden!
A dunce can herd swine and drive cattle! The mother suppressed a sigh and brushed William's bushy brows back from his eyes. He merely grunted; and when she urged him, saying, "Eat, my boy your favorite supper: scraps and buckwheat porridge!" he mechanically carried a spoonful to his lips and let it run out of the other corner of his mouth.
Russ, Laddie and the others needed no second invitation, and soon there was a rattle of knives, forks and spoons that told of hungry children eating heartily. The house at Great Hedge was warm and cosy, and the smell of the bacon, the buckwheat cakes and the maple syrup would have made almost any one hungry. "Are we all going out skating?" asked Rose, as she ate her last cake.
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