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Scattergood nodded. "Still does sewin' for other folks?" "Ma enjoys it," said Ovid, defensively. "Says it passes the time." "Passes consid'able of it, don't it? Passes the time right up till she gits into bed?" "Ma's industrious." "It's a handsome rig-out," said Scattergood. "Credit to you; credit to Coldriver; credit to the bank." Ovid glanced down at his legs to admire them.
East 72d Street, Dec. 28. Milly and I have just come from a run in the Park, and here I am this shining white morning scribbling away in my own cosey room. My very own room for the most delightful thing has happened; I'm visiting Mrs. Baker Aunt Frank I am to call her, though she is really Ma's cousin and she has asked me to spend the rest of the winter here. So I've really left the den.
He rotch down, an' he raise up de pumpkin, an' he perambulate right quick to he ma's shack, an' he lift up de latch, an' he open de do', an' he yenter in. An' he say: "Yere's de pumpkin."
She assisted with the breakfast preparations, and then, when the busy swarm had flown for the day, she "turned to," to Ma's delight, and got the place "rid up" so it was "clean as a whistle an' neat as a pin." Ma was not what Martha approvingly called "a hustler." "Ma ain't thorer," her daughter-in-law confided to Claire, without reproach.
Gus kissed his daughter before saying: "Don't worry, honey; he won't bother you no more." Allie averted her face. Mrs. Briskow inquired, "Did you see the skunk?" "No. I give him a few minutes to clear out." "Hadn't we better leave, too?" ventured Allie. "Oh-h!" In Ma's eyes was such bleak dismay, such a piteous appeal, that Gus shook his head. "What fer?
Ma's darlin' lamb! and ketehin' her death a cold this blessed minnit. Set right down, my dear, and tuck your wet feet into the oven. I'll have a dish o' tea for you in less 'n no time; and while it's drawin' I'll clap Victory Adelaide into her bed." Christie sank into a shabby but most hospitable old chair, dropped her bonnet on the floor, put her feet in the oven, and, leaning back, watched Mrs.
And so at last they sat together, Pa Turnpike on one side and William on the other side of Ma's easy chair. She held one of William's hands tightly in her own, and when she could, she talked to him the mother talk that so many have heard and heeded not, and would give all they have to hear again.
"Yes, sir." "Emily Richards Thomas! What was your ma's name?" "Mamma was Mrs. Thomas. Her front name was Mary. She's dead. Don't you want to see your letter? I've got it now." She lifted one of the flapping coat sleeves and extended a crumpled, damp envelope. Captain Cy took it in a dazed fashion and drew a long breath.
How clean and trim, how ready for the day, she had felt, when her red braid was tied with a brown ribbon, and this little garment firmly buttoned down the back, and pressed with a great sweep of Ma's arms to crush the too stiffly starched skirt! Sally observed amusedly, perhaps a little pityingly, that Lydia wanted everything.
But they appeared in a few minutes, Tirzah Ann with her arms full of bundles which dribbled onnoticed on the pier as she advanced and throwed her arms round her pa's and ma's neck. Love is home, and with our dear children's arms about us and their warm smiles of delight and welcome and their loving words in our ear, we had got home.
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