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Updated: April 30, 2025
As these are quite unlike your highly civilized entertainments which go by the same name, I must describe one to you. The first thing after breakfast was to collect all the provisions, and pack them in a sort of washing-basket, and then we started in an American waggon drawn by a pair of stout cobs.
He glanced at the address and at the signature, then tore the letter in two and threw it into the washing-basket by his side. Suddenly he came upon one signed Helen. He did not know the writing. It was thin, angular, and old-fashioned. It began: my dear William, and ended: your affectionate sister. Then it struck him that it was from his own mother.
She had hung down her blushing face and would not look up at him. "I thought as much," he said. Without raising her eyes she asked: "Then why did you do it?" Trautvetter hesitated a moment, then he said gently: "I thought I was doing you a pleasure, Frau Lisbeth." The young woman looked him full in the face for an instant. Then she stood up quickly, took her washing-basket, and departed.
"Of course, t' Gibbs were always a cut above us," she owned frankly. "My feyther was a foundry hand till he died, and wasn't too steady neither; and when 'e died my mother took in washing. There was a trick young Roger once played 'er about a washing-basket ... what was it now?" She paused to meditate. "Nay, I can't think on this minute ... but she allus said as 'e wur nowt but a bowdekite!"
Saxham dismounted as she stooped to seize the end of a blue cotton-covered washing-basket impelled from below by an ascending Sister.
She beckoned to the two nuns, who stood at a little distance apart holding the washing-basket between them. "I will ask you to go on slowly before me with the basket. I will overtake you when I have spoken to Dr. Saxham." "Surely, Reverend Mother." One tall, pale, and thin, the other round and rosy, they were alike in the placid, cheerful serenity of their good eyes and readily smiling lips.
"If this washing-basket had been one of my old uncle's three-deckers, she couldn't have said much more. By the Lord!" he added, with a coarse laugh, "I ought to have a natural talent for ship-building; for if the old villain hadn't died when he did, I should have been a ship-builder myself." Rufus Dawes turned his back at the word "died", and busied himself with the fastenings of the hides.
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