 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     |
Ned Patterson Comes for a Visit "A ruddy drop of manly blood The surging sea outweighs; The world uncertain comes and goes, The lover rooted stays." -- Emerson Berries seldom grow where land is highly cultivated, and in such communities, the roadside is often the only place where they are to be found. On a bright afternoon early in August, Pansy was hunting for blackberries by the highway running through the beech woods. Meeting Mr. Swift, who was also in pursuit of berries, she volunteered to assist him, when she had filled her own pail, and they were walking homeward together when the clatter of horses hoofs sounded in the distance. Very soon, Stanley and Julia Winthrop and Ned Patterson came riding toward them on splendid mounts from Mr. Winthrop's stable. Immediately on recognizing her, Ned waved his hat, and as Pansy and the lank, seedy farmer stood aside to let the horses pass, he held out his crop for Pansy to shake. "We are coming to call this evening," he said. "I'll be home," was Pansy's reply. They had hardly gotten out of hearing when Mr. Swift remarked: "Mighty stylish friends you have these days, but they aint no better looking than Rube when he gits on the suit Arthur Whitman sent him." "They are not conceited about their looks, but are just like one of us, except Julia is a little proud, and Stanley knows much more than we do," said Pansy. "Comes nat'rally by it. His father al'ays knew more'n anybody else, or thought he did." "His father is a splendid gentleman," said Pansy stoutly. "He always calls me young lady and Richard young man." "He can afford to be airish with his wife's money to spend. Sis and Bub was good enough when he used to live in these parts." When Mr. Swift left Pansy where the road branched off leading to his home, she pondered considerably over the attitude of the shiftless farmer toward the rich banker who had once been his school companion. It was well-known in the neighborhood that Mr. Swift lived rent free on a farm owned by his brother-in-law, Arthur Whitman, Senior, and that the clothing for the family and much of the food was sent to them by this same relative and his wife. Though a pensioner himself, he invariably insinuated that the wealth of the successful banker had come through marriage to a rich wife, and not through personal efforts. "I'll have to ask Henry Bright why it is Mr. Swift is always knocking Mr. Winthrop," soliloquized Pansy, wholly unable to reach a solution to the matter. About eight o'clock that evening, Stanley and Ned came for their call, and found the Bradfords, with the exception of Mr. Alden, sitting around the dining-room table playing authors. There was a yellow paper shade on the lamp, and the soft light robbed the room of much that was crude and plain. After the introduction, Ned seated himself by Mrs. Bradford and began an animated conversation. "You have a bully place up here," he said. "I never dreamed it was so fine. That boy Stanley never tells more than half the truth about anything. When he wrote about coming to Poland, he said they would bring a little girl and boy with them, and we nearly ordered cribs set up in our suite for their accommodation. Imagine my surprise when I saw your stunning -- when I saw your son and daughter." "Pansy and Richard passed the crib period long ago, though Pansy doesn't grow as I wish she would," said Mrs. Bradford, smiling at Ned's drollery. "I'm not a connoisseur of girls, but she looks to me to be of fair size," said Ned, with a queer look on his face, for he knew in his heart no better judge existed than he of the feminine sex. "Pansy is the real executive of the family, and we naturally look to her for many things. She can't be made to sew or do fancy work for long at a time, but she knows every load of hay that goes into the barn and every turnip that is put into the cellar. She and Richard are like their father in that respect." "That is good husbandry, is it not?" Ned continued to converse with the mother with the ease and charm he knew well how to command, and when he felt he had gained her confidence, turned to the daughter. "Who was the ancient mariner acting as your pilot this afternoon?" he asked of Pansy. "That is Mr. John Swift. Stanley knows him," she said with a sly look at the latter. "You are wrong in your assumption of his vocation, Ned, for he can spin a yarn that would make any mariner blush. He is a sort of modern Aesop," said Stanley. "I didn't see anything modern about him but the girl with the pail of blackberries." Pansy sat up in her chair as if a sudden thought had occurred to her. "We are all going blue berrying tomorrow up near Streaked Mountain, and perhaps you and Ned would like to go with us," said she looking at Stanley. "If so, Uncle Will can put in an extra seat in the express wagon." "Of course, we'd like to go," said Ned, without giving Stanley time to reply. "What time does your trumpeter sound his matutinal horn?" "We start at eight. But you will hardly have had breakfast by that time," said Pansy, again looking at Stanley. "He'll have breakfast before that time tomorrow, I'll look after that," again answered Ned. "Many's the morning I've sat in a turkey blind before Old Sol himself was up." "A turkey blind! What's that?" asked Pansy. "It's a sort of cuddyhole where you wait until the wild turkey comes out for his breakfast, and then you shower a little pepper his way for seasoning." Richard and Mr. Alden immediately became interested in Ned's hunting expeditions, and began asking so many questions that he left his seat by Mrs. Bradford and took one beside Richard on the settee. Stanley improved the opportunity to thank Mrs. Bradford for his birthday cake, which pleased Pansy very much, for she liked to hear her mother's cooking praised. "We're going to have a squeegee lunch tomorrow," she said, smacking her lips in anticipation of the good things." "A What?" asked Ruth with horror in her voice. "Excuse me, Ruth, a delicious lunch. There are things that were never eaten before." "Do you mean things or dishes, Pansy?" asked the elder sister. "I mean both, Ruth. Wouldn't you like to go in the pantry and see them Stanley," she asked, while her face expressed the pleasure it would have had she been offering him a big treat. "I have everything put away for the night, Pansy, and I am not going to let you mouse around in the pantry," said Mrs. Bradford. "Stanley will enjoy the lunch better for not seeing it before hand." When they arose to go, Ned handed Pansy an envelope. "I nearly forgot these pictures I took the day you were at Poland. Perhaps you would like to have them as a souvenir of the first time that we met." Click Here for Chapter 14 |