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Updated: May 20, 2025
As they approached the cabin, Moppet appeared to be answering their brief questions without any signs of fear. "Poor little thing!" said Mrs. Wharton. "I am glad they are not angry with her. I was afraid they might beat her." The strangers were received with the utmost friendliness, but their stock of English was so very scanty that little information could be gained from them.
"What are you about?" cried Moppet, seizing her sister's hand as she was in the act of snipping off one with the scissors. "Oh, Betty, the gown will not be half so pretty without them." "Nay, child, rose-colored ribbons are not for me to-day; I am grown too old and sad," said Betty softly, looking with tender eyes into Moppet's face.
He did not remember his mother, except as he had seen her in that moment of clairvoyance; and it had been part of his Indian training to suppress emotion. But he put his hand on his heart, and said, "Me no much speak." When the little red-and-yellow basket was brought forward, it awakened no recollections in his mind. They pointed to it, and said, "Wik-a-nee, Moppet"; but he made no response.
It took some time to dress Miss Moppet in the silken petticoat and puffed skirt, the tiny mobcap and white ribbons, which Kitty had considered proper for the occasion, and Betty found she must hasten her own toilet, or be late herself.
"O no," said immovable Moppet, "of course I can't; and I 'spect I'm going to lie awake all night too. You'd ought to be glad to stay with your little brothers. The girl in my library-book, she was glad, anyhow." Sharley threw herself back in the rocking-chair and let her eyes brim over.
"Indeed, I am likely to recollect when I myself arranged the twelve candles in your birthday cake." "To be sure!" cried Moppet, with swift repentance, "and such an excellent, rich cake as it was, too. Do you think" insinuatingly "that I might have a slice, a very tiny slice, before I go forth with Betty to gather nuts in the Tracys' woods?"
"Oh," said Miss Bidwell in a shocked voice, "I shall have to report you as a naughty chit if you use such language." "Well, it just is" said Moppet; "that's what the minister said in his sermon Sunday week, and you know, Miss Bidwell, that you admired it extremely, because I heard you tell Pamela so." "Admired the devil?" said Miss Bidwell. "Child, what are you talking about?"
If we could dress him up as a young man of fashion or make him into Ralph Jeffries, who is more barrel-shaped. But there, the pass!" "I have it," cried Patty with a merry laugh. "Order up gray Bess, and dress him to personate thee. He can put on a mask and drop his shoulders. Thy plaided camlet cape will do well. And put Moppet on a pillion behind. Someone else must go.
"Captain Yorke? He was aide to Sir Henry Clinton." "Was he? Will he go off to-day with all the other redcoats?" "He sailed away to England some months ago, I recollect he came to bid good-by to Clarissa, but do you know, Moppet," lowering his voice, with a glance over his shoulder to be certain that he was not overheard, "I think I saw him two days ago." "In New York?" said Moppet, with a start.
Never any more moonlight, and watching, and strolling! Never any more hoping, or wishing, or expecting, for Sharley. She jumped a little off her window-sill; then sat down again. That was it. Moppet, and the baby, and her mother, and kneading, and milking, and darning, for thirty, for forty, for the dear Lord, who pitied her, only knew how many years.
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