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"Well, it appears as though you should go and see her; she's a weakly woman, but she can set her back up dreadful against the Lord's doings, and I don't know but what such kind of people need comfortin' more 'n others. It's a world full o' gales, this is, and everybody hasn't learnt the grass's lesson, to bend when the wind blows." "The Lord sends the wind, Aunt 'Viny."
Parker was conveying these ideas to Miss 'Viny, they were being illustrated in her own house after this fashion: 'Tenty sprang up and handed the book, and went to her work again, beginning under her breath to hum "Sweet fields beyond" "Dear me! this pillow has slipped away. 'Tenty, won't you fix it?"
These are some new kind of seed for Miss Viny; she learned me a lot out of her garden. This is goods for a waist for you, Miss Hazy." "It's rale pretty," said Miss Hazy, measuring its length. "If you'd 'a' brought me enough fer a skirt, too, I'd never 'a' got through prayin' fer you." Mrs. Wiggs was indignant. "I declare, Miss Hazy! You ain't got a manner in the world, sometimes.
Pretty soon he came, riding like mad on that wheel thing of his. He stayed 'most an hour, and came out with a face a yard long. I expect it's her last sickness, don't you?" "Mebbe so!" said the deacon, dubiously. "Mis' Tree has had a long life; she'd oughter be prepared; I trust she is. She has always loved the world's things, but I trust she is. Ain't this ruther a slim dinner, Viny?
She did not say so to her sister, for Miss 'Viny would have scolded her smartly, nor did she tell Doctor Parker; but she prayed about it, and kept it in her heart all those silent days that she sat sewing baby-clothes, and looking forward to an hour that should, even through a death-agony, take her to Tom.
Were the vile barbers of the gun-deck to reap our long, nodding harvests, and expose our innocent chins to the chill air of the Yankee coast! And our viny locks! were they also to be shorn? Was a grand sheep-shearing, such as they annually have at Nantucket, to take place; and our ignoble barbers to carry off the fleece?
Every morning, rain or shine, she carried her tin pail to Doctor Parker's for milk, hung on the tea-kettle, set the table, wiped the dishes, weeded a bit of the prolific onion-bed, then washed her hands and brushed her hair, put on the green sun-bonnet or the blue hood, as the weather pleased, and trotted off to school, where she plodded over fractions, and wearied herself out with American history, and crammed geography, and wrote copies, for a whole year, when Aunt 'Viny thought she might learn her trade, being a stout girl of fifteen, and the 'Cademy knew her no more.
At this second outburst Mrs. Weight collapsed, and sat down, her hands on her knees, staring at her husband. The children whimpered and crept behind her ample back. "Pa" was transformed. "I went to that house," Deacon Weight went on, "against my judgment, Viny; you know I did. I felt no call to go, quite the reverse, but you were so
'You thought I was dead, I see it in your face; and Viny sent you to view the remains. You go home, and tell her I'll bury ye both, and do it handsome. Go 'long with ye! scat! "That was the expression she used, to a senior deacon of the congregation she sits in. I believe Satan has a strong hold on that old woman. I I think I will go to my room, wife."
"I'm a mean, bad girl after all. The canker-worm's there. Miss Viny said there never would be a sure-'nough beautiful flower till the canker-worm was killed. But I want to be good; I want to be what they think I am!" Again and again the old thoughts of Kate rose to taunt and madden her.
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