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Updated: May 28, 2025
Eben, as they drew near Dr. Macgowan's gate, "what is this name by which the village people call you? I heard it on everybody's lips, but I could not make it out." Hetty colored. "It is French for Aunt Hibba," she replied. "They speak it as if it were one word, 'Tantibba." "But there was more to it," said her husband. "'Bo Tantibba, they called you."
There is none like thee, Tantibba, they say, if one has a wound." Hetty quickened her pace to a run. As she entered the Square, she saw such crowds around the basin that Pierre's tale seemed amply corroborated. Pressing in at the outer edge of the circle, she exclaimed, looking to right and left, "Where is the child? Where is Mère Michaud?" Every one looked bewildered; no one answered.
Tantibba!" The woman turned her head, at the name, and waited till the lad came to her. Dr. Eben stood still, watching them. "So that is Tantibba?" he thought, "what can the name be?" Presently the lad came back with a bunch of long drooping balm-stalks in his hand. "Who was that you spoke to then?" asked the doctor. "Tantibba!" replied the lad, hurrying on. Dr. Eben caught him by the shoulder.
"Look here!" he exclaimed, "just tell me that name again. This is the fourth time I've heard it tonight. Is it the woman's first name or what?" The lad was a stupid English lad, who had but recently come to service in St. Mary's, and had never even thought to wonder what the name "Tantibba," meant. He stared vacantly for a moment, and then said: "Indeed, sir, and I don't know.
The sunset is no time to idle. Where are your goats?" "Milked an hour ago, Tantibba, and in the shed," replied Pierre, with a saucy air of having the best of the argument, "and my mother waits in the Square to speak to thee as thou passest." "I was not going that way, to-night," replied Hetty. "I am in haste. What does she wish? Will it not do as well in the morning?"
Will not that be our best home, our best happiness, to come back and live and die among these simple people?" "Yes," answered Dr. Eben, "it will. Tantibba, we will come back." And now is told all that I have to tell of the Strange History of Eben and Hetty Williams. If there be any who find the history incredible, I have for such a few words more.
A bare-footed boy was driving a flock of goats past. The child stopped and gazed intently at the stranger. "Child, who lives in this little house?" said Dr. Eben, cautiously hiding his stolen handful of lavender. "Tantibba," replied the boy. "What!" exclaimed the doctor. "I don't understand you. What is the name?" "Tantibba!
Bo Tantibba!" till the place rang. Then they placed the pet lamb in a little enclosed paddock which had been built for him during the day, and the children fed him with red clover blossoms through the paling; and presently, Father Antoine considerately led his flock away, saying, "The good Aunt is weary. See you not that her eyes droop, and she has no words?
But it was the only four-wheeled vehicle in St. Mary's, and to these simple villagers' way of thinking, there was nothing unbecoming in Tantibba's going away in it with her husband. "Farewell to thee! Farewell to thee! The saints keep thee, Bo Tantibba and thy husband! and thy husband!" rose from scores of voices as the diligence moved slowly away. Dr.
Eben had his hand on the latch of the gate. At that instant, the cottage door opened, and "Tantibba," in her white cap and gray gown, and with her scarlet basket on her arm, appeared on the threshold. Dr. Eben lifted his hat courteously, and advanced. "I was just about to take the liberty of knocking at your door, madame," he said, "to ask if you would give me a few of your lavender blossoms."
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