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Updated: May 12, 2025
"And remember, you've always got a friend in me, anyhow." Then Clemantiny went back into the kitchen and cried good, rough-spoken, tender-hearted Clemantiny sat down and cried. It was an ideal day for travelling crisp, clear and sunny but neither Chester nor Miss Salome was in a mood for enjoyment. Back over Chester's runaway route they went, and reached Belltown on the boat that evening.
She she wasn't kind to me and she wouldn't let me go to school so I ran away." "But, dear me, Chester, didn't you know that was very wrong?" said Miss Salome in bewilderment. "No'm I didn't know it then. I've been thinking lately that maybe it was. I'm I'm real sorry." "What did you say your real name was?" demanded Clemantiny. "Stephens, ma'am." "And your mother's name before she was married?"
"Lay him on the sofa," said Miss Salome as soon as she had recovered from the horror into which Clemantiny's starvation dictum had thrown her. A child starving to death on her doorstep! "What do you do for people in a faint, Clemantiny?" "Wet their face and hist up their feet and loosen their collar," said Clemantiny in a succession of jerks, doing each thing as she mentioned it.
"Freckles-and-Bones has been well trained somewhere," said Clemantiny again. It was hardly fair to put the bones in now, for Chester was growing plump and hearty. He had never been so happy in his life. Upton drudgery and that dreadful week in Montrose seemed like a bad dream. Here, in the golden meadows of Mount Hope Farm, he worked with a right good will.
"Here, open your mouth and take this broth. Pretty doings, I say!" Clemantiny spoke as sharply as Aunt Harriet had ever done, but somehow or other Chester did not feel afraid of her and her black eyes. She sat down by his side and fed him from the bowl of hot broth with a deft gentleness oddly in contrast with her grim expression.
She had "bossed" Miss Salome for years, and both knew that in the end the damsons would be baked, but the argument had to be carried out for dignity's sake. "They're so sour when they're baked," protested Miss Salome. "Well, you don't want damsons sweet, do you?" retorted Clemantiny scornfully. "That's the beauty of damsons their tartness.
I'll try to do everything you want me to do. I'll work ever so hard." "Humph!" This, of course, was from Clemantiny, as she set a pan of apples on the stove with an emphatic thud. "Nobody ever doubted your willingness to work. Pity everything else about you isn't as satisfactory." "Clemantiny!" said Miss Salome rebukingly. She put her arms about Chester and drew him to her.
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