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Updated: June 24, 2025
"You may have a whole week to experiment upon them in my absence." Ruey watched him down the street in the gray dawn of the next morning as he hurried to the depot, and a bright idea came into her head. Why not take a little trip on her own account? She might run up to father Thorne's; why not be visiting as well as moping here alone?
"I remember singin' that ar to Mary Jane Wilson the very night she died," said Aunt Ruey, stopping.
I hain't nussed and watched and sot up nights sixty years for nothin'. I can see beyond what most folks can, her weddin' garments is bought and paid for, and she'll wear 'em, but she won't be Moses Pennel's wife, now you see." "Why, whose wife will she be then?" said Miss Ruey; "'cause that ar Mr. Adams is married. I saw it in the paper last week when I was up to Mis' Badger's."
Miss Roxy looked on Miss Ruey as quite a frisky young thing, though under her ample frisette of carroty hair her head might be seen white with the same snow that had powdered that of her sister. Aunt Ruey had a face much resembling the kind of one you may see, reader, by looking at yourself in the convex side of a silver milk-pitcher.
Aunt Ruey, it must be known, had in her youth been one of the foremost leaders in the "singers' seats," and now was in the habit of speaking of herself much as a retired prima donna might, whose past successes were yet in the minds of her generation.
And what is the happiness of the brightest hours of grown people more than this? "Roxy," said Aunt Ruey innocently, "seems to me I haven't heard nothin' o' them children lately. They're so still, I'm 'fraid there's some mischief." "Well, Ruey, you jist go and give a look at 'em," said Miss Roxy. "I declare, that boy!
"He never can be easy when he hears these guns," said Mrs. Pennel; "but what can he do, or anybody, in such a storm, the wind blowing right on to shore?" "I shouldn't wonder if Cap'n Kittridge should be out on the beach, too," said Miss Ruey; "but laws, he ain't much more than one of these 'ere old grasshoppers you see after frost comes.
Thorne said on the day that Ruey had fixed upon for her return. "It has been snowing hard all night, and if it keeps on at this rate the railroads will be blocked up." "Oh, father! I must start; Philip will be home to-night, and what will he think if he does not find me there?" Ruey said eagerly. "Better," said the wise old father, "better stay and telegraph to Ralph."
"Yes," said Miss Roxy; "and, Ruey, I was a-thinkin' whether or no it wa'n't best to pack away them things, 'cause Naomi hadn't fixed no baby drawers, and we seem to want some." "I was kind o' hintin' that to Mis' Pennel this morning," said Ruey, "but she can't seem to want to have 'em touched."
Not only Aunt Roxy and Aunt Ruey, who by a prescriptive right presided over all the births, deaths, and marriages of the neighborhood, but there was Captain Kittridge, a long, dry, weather-beaten old sea-captain, who sat as if tied in a double bow-knot, with his little fussy old wife, with a great Leghorn bonnet, and eyes like black glass beads shining through in the bows of her horn spectacles, and her hymn-book in her hand ready to lead the psalm.
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