 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     |
The Marvelous Story Teller "Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true, Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you!" -- Campbell One rainy afternoon Pansy, Richard and Stanley were seated around the dining-room table. Pansy and Richard were working on their herbarium and Stanley was watching them. Mrs. Bradford was sewing on a silk quilt, and Ruth was reading. "The anemone is our earliest flower," said Pansy, "and then comes the hepatica, the wake-robin, and trailing arbutus. Richard and I used to try to see who could be the first to find these, and we would bring mother in great bunches of wake-robins -- we used to call them benjamins -- and she would turn up her nose at them; their odor didn't exactly suit her." Pansy was looking at her mother and laughing. . "I never refused the young checkerberry leaves, did I?" she asked. . "No, indeed, Richard and I had a hard time finding enough for you to chew." . "These dog's tooth violets grow just beyond the wall that separates our field from Mr. Bright's woods. It is a little damp there. The blue fringed gentians grow beside the road down your way, Stanley, and these columbine blossoms on the hillside in Mr. Parish's horse pasture. They don't press well, but Richard and I used to run after them more than any flower, so as to eat the honey from their petals." . "Mr. Swift is coming to make a call," said Richard, as a tall figure passed by the windows. "Now, Stanley, we shall hear some big stories," added he laughing. . Mr. Swift went around to the woodshed door and came in by way of the kitchen. He wore hightop rubber boots, small clothes of various colors, an old coat of black and tan tweed, and a brown slouch hat which he failed to remove during his call. He looked to be about forty-five years of age. His hair and beard were red sprinkled with white, and he one redeeming feature were eyes of deep blue. . "Jerusha got nifty cause I brought a couple of men in for dinner, and I left her'n the young'un picking o'er beans," began Mr. Swift. . "This is Stanley Winthrop, Mr. Swift," said Pansy. . "Glad to meet ye," he said, shaking hands in a rather loose manner with Stanley. "Used to know your dad years ago when he was a young harum scarum running o'er these hills. Folks tell he's a banker now." "Yes," replied Stanley, looking askance at the caller. . "Never forget the time him and I went o'er to Whitnet's cider mill and drank so much old cider both of us came away drunk. We went over to his place and got down on our knees before the open fire and started to divide a flask of gun powder. His mother came in and seen us, and she got her broom and knocked one one way and tother tother, and there we lay as drunk as lords until his father came home and put us out in the hay loft to sober up. A'ter he ran away, never he'rn much about him till his brother died some four years ago now, then folks said he's married a Dutch girl rolling in wealth, and was president of a bank. Gil Winthrop was the last of the family, and when he died title to the homestead passed to your dad, and to everybody's astonishment, he sent an a'chitect and carpenters and all kinds of workmen and built a new house and barn, but never came near the place hisself. Jerry Pike has had a good living there for the last few years." . Having delivered himself of this long speech, Mr. Swift settled back in his chair with an air of satisfaction and took up a new topic. . "Hear 'bout the wild cat Rube seen in the beech woods? You youngsters better look out or he'll get you some day," said he, looking at Pansy and Richard. "Rube was coming up from the village 'bout 'leven o'clock tother night, and when he got in the beech woods he hearn some'in comin' his way patter, patter, patter, and 'long came a wild cat as big as a calf, with eyes like coals of fire. When the cat seen Rube, she backed up and got ready to spring, but Rube walked right over to her, swung his arms and said, 'Here, get along 'bout your biz you old scallawag!' and the cat dropped her tail 'tween her legs and went off like a whipped dog." . "Was he alone?" asked Richard. . "Yep," answered Mr. Swift. "She must have a nest of kittens in the woods somewhere or she wouldn't have tried to attack any one." . "Did you ever see a wild cat, Mr. Swift?" asked Pansy. . "Lots of 'um. When I was young, animals were more plenty in the woods than now. I was the only feller that dared go out a'ter dark, and 'twasn't till I got them all killed off the other fellers would walk through the woods in the day time even." . "How old were you when you killed your first wild cat?" asked Richard. . "Just 'bout your age, mebbe a little older. I was out hunting one day, and I seen two old she cats standing on a rock, and I took aim and fired and one dropped and tother went limping off. I found her toe in the leaves. Ten years a'ter that I killed an old cat, and when I examined her she had lost a toe. Must have been the same old cat I wounded before. I remember the day well, for on my way home, I found a mud turtle, and took it home, and cut my initials and the date on its shell, and used to keep it in the water trough, but finally it got away. Thirty years a'ter that I found that same old turtle crawling 'round. Bill Williams was with me the day that turtle shown up agin, and bet me he could hit it more times'n I out of ten shots if we put up for a target, so we hung the turtle on the branch of a tree with a string, and Bill took careful aim and fired, and did hit it, but the ball bounced back and hit Bill on the ear, and a'ter that he refused to fire any more, and gin me his jackknife to call off the bet." . "Did you take the turtle down?" asked Mrs. Bradford. . "Naw, we left it hanging there, and more'n twenty years a'ter I found that same old turtle still alive and kicking. Used to eat flies and 'sketoes and anything that came its way." . "You said you were Richard's age, which is fourteen, when you killed your first wild cat, and ten years after you killed the one that had lost its toe, and that same day you found a turtle and marked it, and thirty years after you found it again and used it as a target and left it hanging to the tree, and twenty years after you found it still there, that would make you over seventy-four years of age, Mr. Swift, and you don't look so old as that." Pansy had carefully summarized the details of Mr. Swift's story, and all were looking at him for an explanation of the discrepancy therein. . "Why -- why -- it's claring up, and guess I'll go home and see how Jerusha and the youn'un are getting 'long with the beans. Glad to seen you, lad. My regards to your father. Good day all." Mr. Swift slouched out of the door, and having recovered his large cotton umbrella from the woodshed, took his departure. "You must take his statements with a grain of salt," said Ruth sweetly to Stanley who had sat with his fine head thrown back somewhat haughtily during Mr. Swift's recital. . "His boy Rube wouldn't dare go from here home after dark much less come up from the village at eleven o'clock at night," said Richard. . "Real pleasant to hear tales of your father's boyhood from such a reliable source," said Pansy, her eyes sparking with fun. Then they all laughed. . "I think Mr. Swift was never taught the proverb from Grimm's Fairy Tales, "Throw not your ax so far you cannot get it back," said Stanley. . Click Here for Chapter 7 |