 A Real New England Girl by Anna I. Parsons 1. The Shower 2. Oxford County 3. The Stranger and the Girl 4. The Youth and the Girl 5. Pansy and Richard Go Trading 6. The Marvelous Storyteller 7. The Dinner 8. The The Minister Comes for Tea 9. Pansy's Father 10. Pansy and Her Mother 11. Poland Springs 12. The Birthday Cake 13. Ned Patterson Comes for a Visit 14. The Blue Berrying Party 15. The Beginning of Wisdom 16. The Tempted and the Penitent 17. The Concert 18. Stanley's Ride 19. The Bench by the Wayside 20. The Banker and the Widow 21. The Bag of Nuts 22. How They Kept Thanksgiving at Little Farm 23. Hardly a Merry Christimas 24. A Call Down and a Caller 25. The Pride of Mrs. Bradford 26. A Happy New Year 27. Amusement and Winter Sport 28. Kim 29. Richard, the Lion Hearted 30. A Tour of the White Mountains 31. Talking Over the Trip with Henry Bright 32. Thoughts That Lie Too Deep for Words 33. Economics 34. His Toast 35. The Busy Haunts of Man 36. Christmas in New York 37. The Last Night of Their Visit 38. The Language Understood by All 39. Sugaring Off 40. Correspondence 41. Commencement 42. Conclusion Afterward     |
Pansy and Her Mother "Who ran to help me when I fell And would some pretty story tell, Or kiss the place to make it well? My mother." -- Taylor The kitchen of the Bradford home was a long, large room, having windows on the north, west, and south. The south window had morning glories climbing up beside it, and through it could be seen Lake Thompson and many fertile farms on the sloping highlands to the southwest. From the west window could be seen Pleasant Mountains and lonely Kearsarge, but the woodshed, which was built at a right angle to the house, cut off the grander view of the White Mountains. It was a pleasant, sunny room with cooking range, and other equipment for culinary purposes. A large table stood in front of the west window where Mrs. Bradford prepared her pastry and other necessaries for the family. On a Saturday morning late in July, she stood at this table rolling out pie crust and covering plates which Pansy deftly filled with berries and sprinkled well with sugar and spice. Then Mrs. Bradford put on the top crust, and Pansy placed a little funnel of white paper in the center as a vent for steam and to prevent the juice from running out. "There's a pie that should suit the best gastronomer," said Pansy, as she carried one ready for baking to the oven. "I read somewhere that the old Romans had ruinous and gluttonous appetites, but I think Richard and I like good eating just as much as the Romans did. History says in very early times, the Greeks and Romans lived only on vegetables and corn and the only animal commonly eaten was the pig. Sheep and cattle were used to sacrifice to their gods and for the production of cheese, leather and wool. Fish was so expensive they did not eat it at all. The staple food was wheat, and Caesar speaks of the endurance of his soldiers in submitting to eat meat when corn was not to be had." "Why Pansy, they used to have barbecues and eat great quantities of meat," said Mrs. Bradford. "Yes, mother, but that wasn't until luxuries came in with increasing wealth. They would eat and eat and after renewing their gastric energy in the bath, would fall to another banquet." "Pansy, I think the beans have parboiled long enough, will you get them ready for baking, and put a little more water in the steamer for the brown bread?" "Yes'm," said Pansy, hastening to do her mother's bidding. "If we didn't have pork and beans and brown bread Sunday morning, I'd think it was just an ordinary day." When she again resumed her task of finishing the pies, a voice called through the south window, "May I come in?" and a moment later Stanley Winthrop seated himself near the kitchen table. "We're all going to Poland Springs on Tuesday," said he to Mrs. Bradford, "and we would like to have Pansy and Richard go with us. We have some friends stopping there, and we expect to leave here at ten o'clock and get there a little before dinner time, and we shall not come home until evening. The motor car will hold seven so there will be plenty of room. Pansy's blue eyes looked steadily at her mother in anxious expectation of what the answer might be. It was sometime in coming, and then did not promise much in the way of acceptance. "I'll have to think it over, Stanley, and Pansy and Richard can let you know on Monday if I decide to let them go. I assure you I appreciate your having invited them." "Your kitchen smells so good I'm loath to leave, but Julia is waiting for me to ride with her." In another moment he was gone. Pansy sat back in her chair, forgetful of the unfinished pie, and looked at her mother in eager expectation. "Do you think you will let us go?" she asked at length. Ruth had come into the kitchen, and hearing the last question, asked "Where, Pansy?" "To Poland Springs. Stanley has invited Richard and me to go with them on Tuesday and spend the day." "It is a very fashionable place," said Ruth, "different from anything you have ever been used to, and you would have to eat a course dinner." "A coarse dinner?" repeated Pansy. "Why would they give us a coarse dinner; we always have a good dinner home." "I mean, Pansy, it would be served one thing at a time as well as lots of things at a time." "There are certain rules of etiquette followed by the society you would meet there with which you are not acquainted, and it might be very awkward and unpleasant for you." "Stanley knows how that society behaves and how we behave, and if he hadn't thought it would be pleasant for us, he wouldn't have asked us to go. Besides, we have never had a motor ride and have never been outside of Oxford County." "I'll think it over," said Mrs. Bradford. "Now, Pansy, finish up the pies, as we must get dinner ready." When Pansy saw Richard and her uncle coming for the noonday meal, she went out to meet them, and told Richard of their invitation and of their mother's indecision. A little later, when Mr. Alden, Mrs. Bradford, and Ruth were seated about the table, Pansy and Richard did not appear. Calling did not bring any response, and Ruth went to seek them. She soon returned and said, "They are sitting out on the pump platform, and say they can't eat any dinner until it is decided whether or not they are to go to Poland Springs." Mrs. Bradford looked troubled and explained matters to her brother. "I am loath to let them go, because motoring is so dangerous, and besides, they are not used to the society they will meet there," she said. "I read of a child, the other day, who choked to death on a piece of carrot its mother had just given it, so if you are looking for danger, you can find it at home," he said, in his deliberate way. "As to the society they will meet, these children would get along anywhere. What they don't know, they'll take a chance on, and come out better than people who do know nine times out of ten." "Mrs. Bradford was silent for a moment. "Ruth, you may tell them I have decided to let them go," she said. "Pansy always gets her way," laughed Ruth. "She would be sick if I didn't let them go, and besides, as she says, they have never been outside of Oxford County." There was joy written on the faces of the children as they came in quietly and seated themselves at table, but they managed to keep within the rules their mother had laid down as good table manners. "Could you make me a little bonnet like Julia's to wear in the motor," asked Pansy of Ruth before the dinner was over. "Perhaps I can," she answered. "I will look through mother's pieces. After an unusually long Sunday and Monday, Tuesday arrived with a clear air and smiling skies, and Pansy and Richard, dressed in their best, and wearing long linen dust coats, quickly entered the motor car when it arrived for them. Stanley and the chauffeur were the only occupants, as they were to stop for the other members of the Winthrop family on their way back. Never had Stanley been so impressed with the likeness of the brother and sister as when they came out to join him in the car. They were of the same height and the same bright faces, set off with coronas of soft brown hair, looked up at him. Pansy wore the bonnet Ruth had made for her out of tan silk with a facing of blue and streamers of the same hanging down each side. When the Winthrop family were all in the car and they began to ascend the first big hill, even Pansy, who had ridden on nothing but country roads all her life, felt a little squeamish. "You better sit in the middle, Pansy," said Richard, noting the tight hold she had on the motor, and without debate or hesitation they exchanged seats. The car moved easily over the incline, and Pansy was much relieved to find that descent of a steep hill was not nearly so terrifying in a motor car as with a horse. Soon the car reached the plains land where the stump and worm rail fences afforded Pansy and Richard much amusement. "I don't like them as well as the stone walls up on our hills," said Pansy. "Nor I," said Richard. It was a fifteen mile ride abounding with interest to them, although part of the way lay through sandy barrens where the scrub-oak and other stunted growths are most prevalent. The Patterson family, whose guests they were to be at Poland Springs, received them with the cordiality and politeness that characterizes the Baltimoreans as among the most courteous people in America. The two sons, Ned and Toots, took charge of the younger members of the party and made Pansy and Richard feel quite as welcome as their older acquaintances. We will give the story of this glimpse of the fashionable world as Pansy related it between nine and ten o'clock on the night of their return to her mother, Ruth, and Uncle Will. Click Here for Chapter 11 |