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Updated: June 12, 2025
Simes, who was bound to act out the narrative, gave an unlucky sweep with his broom above the heads of his grinning and gaping auditors, and whacked Silas Trefethen, who was behind the counter putting up codfish. "Mind, Simes, there! What are you up to, man?" shouted Silas, tartly, trying to make a stand against the staggering blow dealt amid the laughter of Simes's auditors.
The tide, too, was unusually high. It rolled over the wharves, swept up the shipyards, and even ventured into the yard back of Silas Trefethen's store, floating away a hencoop with its squawking tenants. "It beats all!" said Simes Badger. "The oldest person round here never saw such a tide."
"O, O! 'Scuse me, Silas! I was only 'lustratin'." "'Lustrate next time on that post behind you. If Stanshy Macomber had such rigor in her arm as that, I pity those down-townies!" Was not Aunt Stanshy indignant when she heard how Simes Badger had taken her off at the store! "I'll try my broom on him next time," she told Juggie's granny.
"The bargeman you thrashed, Bill Simes, don't you remember, wants you up again at Oxbridge. The Miss Notleys, the haberdashers " "Hush!" said Warrington "glad to make your acquaintance, Pendennis. Heard a good deal about you." The young men were friends immediately, and at once deep in college-talk.
Aunt Stanshy quickened her steps into a run. "There goes Stanshy," said Simes Badger, watching her from Silas Trefethen's grocery. "Runnin' t' a fire, I guess. She only needs an engine behind her t' make the thing complete." Flying through the yard, Aunt Stanshy rushed up the barn chamber stairs. Passing the "sentinel" with the powerful aid of a cent, she looked around upon the chamber.
The old gray heads, whose possessors occupied that village-throne of wisdom, the jackknife-carved bench by Silas Trefethen's stove, prophesied "a spell of weather." "Storm brewin'! I feel it in my bones," declared Simes Badger, squinting at the vane on Aunt Stanshy's barn and then at the gray, scowling clouds above. The wind was from the "nor'-east."
Then he thought how pleasant it would be, also, to have the window open that the club might have a lookout upon the river and off toward the sea, on whose blue rim, a mile away, could be seen the white tower of the light-house, where Simes Badger and his assistant served their country alternate days. Suddenly, Charlie heard a thick, hoarse voice behind him: "Your Aunt Stanshy in, sonny?"
Walton chanced to reach the long, low-roofed house, and "rap-rap" went his vigorous knuckles against green door number one. "Who's there?" sang out a boyish voice within. "Tush, tush, Tony! Wait till I come," said Simes from his little bedroom at one side of the kitchen. He was off duty, Jotham Grimes having gone to the light-house. "It may be some sailor who wants me," added Simes. Mr.
It was Aunt Stanshy, who, from her window, had watched the boys, and, seeing the approach of that down-town thunder-cloud, rushed out to meet the storm. Her prowess was witnessed by Simes Badger, who, as a leading village gossip, was loafing away an hour of leisure in a flag-bottomed chair before Silas Trefethen's grocery.
Here Simes, who always fancied that he was gifted with dramatic powers unusually fine, pulled a broom out of the stock in a neighboring barrel, and began to sway it backward and forward. "My! didn't Stanshy sweep the battle-field? The enemy went down like leaves before a November gale!"
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