Queechy Volume I Part 58

"She lives like one, don't she?" said aunt Syra.

Which imputation Fleda also refuted to the best of her power.

"Well, don't she have dinner in the middle of the afternoon?"

pursued aunt Syra.

Fleda was obliged to admit that.

"And she can't eat without she has a fresh piece of roast meat on table every day, can she?"

"It is not always roast," said Fleda, half vexed and half laughing.

"I'd rather have a good dish o' bread and 'la.s.ses, than the hull on't," observed old Mrs. Finn, from the corner where she sat, manifestly turning up her nose at the far-off joints on Mrs. Rossitur's dinner-table.

The girls on the other side of the quilt again held counsel together, deep and low.

"Well, didn't she pick up all them notions in that place yonder? ? where you say she has been?" aunt Syra went on.

"No," said Fleda; "everybody does so in New York."

"I want to know what kind of a place New York is, now," said old Mrs. Finn, drawlingly. "I s'pose it's pretty big, aint it?"

Fleda replied that it was.

"I shouldn't wonder if it was a'most as far as from here to Queechy Run, now; aint it?"

The distance mentioned being somewhere about one-eighth of New York's longest diameter, Fleda answered that it was quite as far.

"I s'pose there's plenty o' mighty rich folks there, aint there?"

"Plenty, I believe," said Fleda.

"I should hate to live in it awfully," was the old woman's conclusion.

"I should admire to travel in many countries," said Miss Lucy, for the first time seeming to intend her words particularly for Fleda's ear. "I think nothing makes people more genteel. I have observed it frequently."

Fleda said it was very pleasant; but though encouraged by this opening, could not muster enough courage to ask if Miss Lucy had a "notion" to come and prove their gentility. Her next question was startling ? if Fleda had ever studied mathematics.

"No," said Fleda. "Have you?"

"O my, yes! There was a lot of us concluded we would learn it; and we commenced to study it a long time ago. I think it's a most elevating ?"

The discussion was suddenly broken off, for the sewing-woman exclaimed, as the other sister came in and took her seat ?

"Why, Hannah! you ha'n't been makin' bread with that clock on your hands!"

"Well, Mis' Barnes!" said the girl; "I've washed 'em, and I've made bread with 'em, and even that did not take it off!"

"Do you look at the stars, too, Hannah?" said Mrs. Dougla.s.s.

Amidst a small hubbub of laugh and talk which now became general, poor Fleda fell back upon one single thought, one wish ? that Hugh would come to fetch her home before tea-time.

But it was a vain hope. Hugh was not to be there till sundown, and supper was announced long before that. They all filed down, and Fleda with them, to the great kitchen below stairs; and she found herself placed in the seat of honour indeed, but an honour she would gladly have escaped, at Miss Anastasia's right hand.

A temporary locked-jaw would have been felt a blessing. Fleda dared hardly even look about her; but under the eye of her hostess the instinct of good breeding was found sufficient to swallow everything, literally and figuratively. There was a good deal to swallow. The usual variety of cakes, sweetmeats, beef, cheese, biscuits, and pies, was set out with some peculiarity of arrangement which Fleda had never seen before, and which left that of Miss Quackenboss elegant by comparison.

Down each side of the table ran an advanced guard of little sauces in Indian file, but in companies of three, the file leader of each being a saucer of custard, its follower a ditto of preserves, and the third keeping a sharp look-out in the shape of pickles; and to Fleda's unspeakable horror, she discovered that the guests were expected to help themselves at will from these several stores with their own spoons, transferring what they took either to their own plates, or at once to its final destination, which last mode several of the company preferred. The advantage of this plan was the necessary great display of the new silver tea-spoons, which Mrs. Dougla.s.s slily hinted to aunt Syra were the moving cause of the tea-party. But aunt Syra swallowed sweetmeats, and would not give heed.

There was no relief for poor Fleda. Aunt Syra was her next neighbour, and opposite to her, at Miss Anastasia's left hand, was the disagreeable countenance and peering eyes of the old crone, her mother. Fleda kept her own eyes fixed upon her plate, and endeavoured to see nothing but that.

"Why, here's Fleda aint eating anything," said Mrs. Dougla.s.s.

"Wont you have some preserves? take some custard, do!

Anastasy, she ha'n't a spoon ? no wonder!"

Fleda had secretly conveyed hers under cover.

"There was one," said Miss Anastasia, looking about where one should have been. I'll get another as soon as I give Mis'

Springer her tea."

"Ha'n't you got enough to go round?" said the old woman, plucking at her daughter's sleeve. "Anastasy! ha'n't you got enough to go round?"

This speech, which was spoken with a most spiteful simplicity, Miss Anastasia answered with superb silence, and presently produced spoons enough to satisfy herself and the company. But Fleda! No earthly persuasion could prevail upon her to touch pickles, sweetmeats, or custard that evening; and even in the bread and cakes she had a vision of hands before her that took away her appet.i.te. She endeavoured to make a show with hung beef and cups of tea, which indeed was not Pouchong; but her supper came suddenly to an end upon a remark of her hostess, addressed to the whole table, that they needn't be surprised if they found any bits of pudding in the gingerbread, for it was made from the mola.s.ses the children left the other day.

Who "the children" were Fleda did not know, neither was it material.

It was sundown, but Hugh had not come when they went to the upper rooms again. Two were open now, for they were small, and the company promised not to be such. Fathers and brothers, and husbands began to come, and loud talking, and laughing and joking took place of the quilting chit-chat. Fleda would fain have absorbed herself in the work again, but though the frame still stood there, the minds of the company were plainly turned aside from their duty, or perhaps they thought that Miss Anastasia had had admiration enough to dispense with service. n.o.body showed a thimble but one or two old ladies; and as numbers and spirits gathered strength, a kind of romping game was set on foot, in which a vast deal of kissing seemed to be the grand wit of the matter. Fleda shrank away out of sight behind the open door of communication between the two rooms, pleading, with great truth, that she was tired, and would like to keep perfectly quiet; and she had soon the satisfaction of being apparently forgotten.

In the other room, some of the older people were enjoying themselves more soberly. Fleda's ear was too near the crack of the door, not to have the benefit of more of their conversation than she cared for. It soon put quiet of mind out of the question.

"He'll twist himself up pretty short ? that's my sense of it; and he wont take long to do it, nother," said Earl Dougla.s.s's voice.

Fleda would have known it anywhere, from its extreme peculiarity. It never either rose or fell much from a certain pitch; and at that level the words gurgled forth, seemingly from an everbr.i.m.m.i.n.g fountain; he never wanted one; and the stream had neither let nor stay till his modic.u.m of sense had fairly run out. People thought he had not a greater stock of that than some of his neighbours; but he issued an amount of word-currency sufficient for the use of the county.

"He'll run himself agin a post pretty quick," said uncle Joshua, in a confirmatory tone of voice.

Fleda had a confused idea that somebody was going to hang himself.

"He aint a-workin' things right," said Dougla.s.s; "he aint a- workin' things right; he's takin' hold o' everything by the tail end. He aint studied the business; he doesn't know when things is right, and he doesn't know when things is wrong; and if they're wrong, he don't know how to set 'em right. He's got a feller there that aint no more fit to be there, than I am to be Vice-President of the United States; and I aint a-going to say what I think I am fit for, but I ha'n't studied for that place, and I shouldn't like to stand an examination for't; and a man hadn't ought to be a farmer no more if he ha'n't qualified himself. That's my idee. I like to see a thing done well, if it's to be done at all; and there aint a st.i.tch o'

land been laid right on the hull farm, nor a furrow driv' as it had ought to be, since he came on to it; and I say, Squire Springer, a man aint going to get along in that way, and he hadn't ought to. I work hard myself, and I calculate to work hard, and I make a livin' by't; and I'm content to work hard.

When I see a man with his hands in his pockets, I think he'll have nothin' else in 'em soon. I don't believe he's done a hand's turn himself on the land the hull season!"

And upon this Mr. Dougla.s.s brought up.

"My son, Lucas, has been workin' with him, off and on, pretty much the hull time since he come; and he says he ha'n't begun to know how to spell farmer yet."

"Ay, ay! My wife ? she's a little harder on folks than I be ?

I think it aint worth while to say nothin' of a man without I can say some good of him ? that's my idee; and it don't do no harm, nother; but my wife, she says he's got to let down his notions a peg or two afore they'll hitch just in the right place; and I wont say but what I think she aint, maybe, fur from right. If a man's above his business, he stands a pretty fair chance to be below it some day. I wont say myself, for I haven't any acquaintance with him, and a man oughtn't to speak but of what he's knowing to; but I have heerd say, that he wa'n't as conversationable as it would ha' been handsome in him to be, all things considerin.' There seems to be a good many things said of him, somehow, and l always think men don't talk of a man if he don't give 'em occasion; but, anyhow, I've been past the farm pretty often myself this summer, working with Seth Plumfield; and I've took notice of things myself; and I know he's been makin' beds o' sparrowgra.s.s when he had ought to ha' been makin' fences, and he's been helpin' that little girl o' his'n set her flowers, when he would ha' been better sot to work lookin' after his Irishman. But I don't know as it made much matter, nother; for if he went wrong, Mr.

Rossitur wouldn't know how to set him right, and if he was a- going right, Mr. Rossitur would ha' been just as likely to ha'

set him wrong. Well, I'm sorry for him!"

"Mr. Rossitur is a most gentlemanlike man," said the voice of Dr. Quackenboss.