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On a chair sat her mild young husband nursing the baby a pudding-faced, weak-eyed child. "You take it and get into the cart with it," said Tant Sannie. "What do you want here, listening to our woman's talk?" The young man arose, and meekly went out with the baby. "I'm very glad you are going to be married, my child," said Tant Sannie, as she drained the last drop from her coffee cup.
Bonaparte Blenkins went to pick up the volume, now loosened from its cover, while Tant Sannie pushed the stumps of wood further into the oven. Bonaparte came close to her, tapped the book knowingly, nodded, and looked at the fire. Tant Sannie comprehended, and, taking the volume from his hand, threw it into the back of the oven.
How dare you?" cried Tant Sannie. "It was Em's father's. She gave it me," he muttered more sullenly. "Give it here. What is the name of it? What is it about?" she asked, putting her finger upon the title. Bonaparte understood. "Political Economy," he said slowly. "Dear Lord!" said Tant Sannie, "cannot one hear from the very sound what an ungodly book it is! One can hardly say the name.
He winked at me; he winked at ME," said Tant Sannie, her sides shaking with indignation, "first with one eye, and then with the other, and then drove away. Child of the Amalekite!" said Tant Sannie, "if it hadn't been the blessed Sacrament. Lord, Lord, Lord!"
He bowed low in acquiescence. A long silence followed. Tant Sannie spoke again. Bonaparte gave her no ear; his eye was fixed on a small miniature on the opposite wall, which represented Tant Sannie as she had appeared on the day before her confirmation, fifteen years before, attired in green muslin. Suddenly he started to his feet, walked up to the picture, and took his stand before it.
"Ah, yes; I see it now," he cried, turning his delighted gaze on the Boer-woman; "eyes, mouth, nose, chin, the very expression!" he cried. "How is it possible I did not notice it before?" "Take another cup of coffee," said Tant Sannie. "Put some sugar in."
Haven't we got curses enough on this farm?" cried Tant Sannie, eloquently; "my best imported Merino ram dying of nobody knows what, and the short-horn cow casting her two calves, and the sheep eaten up with the scab and the drought? And is this a time to bring ungodly things about the place, to call down the vengeance of Almighty God to punish us more?
It held only four words: "You must marry Em." He wore it in a black bag round his neck. It was the only letter she had ever written to him. "You see if the sheep don't have the scab this year!" said Tant Sannie as she waddled after Em. "It's with all these new inventions that the wrath of God must fall on us. What were the children of Israel punished for, if it wasn't for making a golden calf?
It is better to be ugly and good than pretty and bad; though of course it's nice when one is both," said Tant Sannie, looking complacently at the picture on the wall. In the afternoon the German and Bonaparte sat before the door of the cabin.
It was such a little whip. I am sure you didn't take the peaches. You aren't going to call her, Waldo, are you?" But the boy walked off. Bonaparte waited till his figure had passed round the front of the wagon-house, and then slipped out. He hid himself round the corner, but kept peeping out to see who was coming. He felt sure the boy was gone to call Tant Sannie.
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