Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag VI An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving, Etc. , livre ebook

Pub One Info - Alcott Louisa May

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78 pages

English

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Sixty years ago, up among the New Hampshire hills, lived Farmer Bassett, with a house full of sturdy sons and daughters growing up about him. They were poor in money, but rich in land and love, for the wide acres of wood, corn, and pasture land fed, warmed, and clothed the flock, while mutual patience, affection, and courage made the old farm-house a very happy home.

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	23 octobre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819906261
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0100€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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I.
A N OLD-FASHIONEDTHANKSGIVING.
Sixty years ago, up among the New Hampshire hills,lived Farmer Bassett, with a house full of sturdy sons anddaughters growing up about him. They were poor in money, but richin land and love, for the wide acres of wood, corn, and pastureland fed, warmed, and clothed the flock, while mutual patience,affection, and courage made the old farm-house a very happyhome.
November had come; the crops were in, and barn,buttery, and bin were overflowing with the harvest that rewardedthe summer's hard work. The big kitchen was a jolly place just now,for in the great fireplace roared a cheerful fire; on the wallshung garlands of dried apples, onions, and corn; up aloft from thebeams shone crook-necked squashes, juicy hams, and dried venison –for in those days deer still haunted the deep forests, and huntersflourished. Savory smells were in the air; on the crane hungsteaming kettles, and down among the red embers copper sauce-panssimmered, all suggestive of some approaching feast.
A white-headed baby lay in the old blue cradle thathad rocked seven other babies, now and then lifting his head tolook out, like a round, full moon, then subsided to kick and crowcontentedly, and suck the rosy apple he had no teeth to bite. Twosmall boys sat on the wooden settle shelling corn for popping, andpicking out the biggest nuts from the goodly store their own handshad gathered in October. Four young girls stood at the longdresser, busily chopping meat, pounding spice, and slicing apples;and the tongues of Tilly, Prue, Roxy, and Rhody went as fast astheir hands. Farmer Bassett, and Eph, the oldest boy, were "chorin''round" outside, for Thanksgiving was at hand, and all must be inorder for that time-honored day.
To and fro, from table to hearth, bustled buxom Mrs.Bassett, flushed and floury, but busy and blithe as the queen beeof this busy little hive should be. "I do like to begin seasonableand have things to my mind. Thanksgivin' dinners can't be drove,and it does take a sight of victuals to fill all these hungrystomicks," said the good woman, as she gave a vigorous stir to thegreat kettle of cider apple-sauce, and cast a glance of housewifelypride at the fine array of pies set forth on the buttery shelves."Only one more day and then it will be time to eat. I didn't takebut one bowl of hasty pudding this morning, so I shall have plentyof room when the nice things come," confided Seth to Sol, as hecracked a large hazel-nut as easily as a squirrel. "No need of mystarvin' beforehand. I always have room enough, and I'd liketo have Thanksgiving every day," answered Solomon, gloating like ayoung ogre over the little pig that lay near by, ready forroasting. "Sakes alive, I don't, boys! It's a marcy it don't comebut once a year. I should be worn to a thread-paper with all thisextra work atop of my winter weavin' and spinnin'," laughed theirmother, as she plunged her plump arms into the long bread-troughand began to knead the dough as if a famine was at hand.
Tilly, the oldest girl, a red-cheeked, black-eyedlass of fourteen, was grinding briskly at the mortar, for spiceswere costly, and not a grain must be wasted. Prue kept time withthe chopper, and the twins sliced away at the apples till theirlittle brown arms ached, for all knew how to work, and did so nowwith a will. "I think it's real fun to have Thanksgiving at home.I'm sorry Gran'ma is sick, so we can't go there as usual, but Ilike to mess 'round here, don't you, girls?" asked Tilly, pausingto take a sniff at the spicy pestle. "It will be kind of lonesomewith only our own folks." "I like to see all the cousins and aunts,and have games, and sing," cried the twins, who were regular littleromps, and could run, swim, coast and shout as well as theirbrothers. "I don't care a mite for all that. It will be so nice toeat dinner together, warm and comfortable at home," said quietPrue, who loved her own cozy nooks like a cat. "Come, girls, fly'round and get your chores done, so we can clear away for dinnerjest as soon as I clap my bread into the oven," called Mrs. Bassettpresently, as she rounded off the last loaf of brown bread whichwas to feed the hungry mouths that seldom tasted any other. "Here'sa man comin' up the hill, lively!" "Guess it's Gad Hopkins. Pa toldhim to bring a dezzen oranges, if they warn't too high!" shoutedSol and Seth, running to the door, while the girls smacked theirlips at the thought of this rare treat, and Baby threw his appleoverboard, as if getting ready for a new cargo.
But all were doomed to disappointment, for it wasnot Gad, with the much-desired fruit. It was a stranger, who threwhimself off his horse and hurried up to Mr. Bassett in the yard,with some brief message that made the farmer drop his ax and lookso sober that his wife guessed at once some bad news had come; andcrying, "Mother's wuss! I know she is!" out ran the good woman,forgetful of the flour on her arms and the oven waiting for itsmost important batch.
The man said old Mr. Chadwick, down to Keene,stopped him as he passed, and told him to tell Mrs. Bassett hermother was failin' fast, and she'd better come to-day. He knew nomore, and having delivered his errand he rode away, saying itlooked like snow and he must be jogging, or he wouldn't get hometill night. "We must go right off, Eldad. Hitch up, and I'll beready in less'n no time," said Mrs. Bassett, wasting not a minutein tears and lamentations, but pulling off her apron as she wentin, with her mind in a sad jumble of bread, anxiety, turkey,sorrow, haste, and cider apple-sauce.
A few words told the story, and the children lefttheir work to help her get ready, mingling their grief for"Gran'ma" with regrets for the lost dinner. "I'm dreadful sorry,dears, but it can't be helped. I couldn't cook nor eat no way, now,and if that blessed woman gets better sudden, as she has before,we'll have cause for thanksgivin', and I'll give you a dinner youwon't forget in a hurry," said Mrs. Bassett, as she tied on herbrown silk pumpkin-hood, with a sob for the good old mother who hadmade it for her.
Not a child complained after that, but ran abouthelpfully, bringing moccasins, heating the footstone, and gettingready for a long drive, because Gran'ma lived twenty miles away,and there were no railroads in those parts to whisk people to andfro like magic. By the time the old yellow sleigh was at the door,the bread was in the oven, and Mrs. Bassett was waiting, with hercamlet cloak on, and the baby done up like a small bale ofblankets. "Now, Eph, you must look after the cattle like a man, andkeep up the fires, for there's a storm brewin', and neither thechildren nor dumb critters must suffer," said Mr. Bassett, as heturned up the collar of his rough coat and put on his blue mittens,while the old mare shook her bells as if she preferred a trip toKeene to hauling wood all day. "Tilly, put extry comfortables onthe beds to-night, the wind is so searchin' up chamber. Have thebaked beans and Injun-puddin' for dinner, and whatever you do,don't let the boys git at the mince-pies, or you'll have them downsick. I shall come back the minute I can leave Mother. Pa will cometo-morrer, anyway, so keep snug and be good. I depend on you, mydarter; use your jedgment, and don't let nothin' happen whileMother's away." "Yes'm, yes'm – good-bye, good-bye!" called thechildren, as Mrs. Bassett was packed into the sleigh and drivenaway, leaving a stream of directions behind her.
Eph, the sixteen-year-old boy, immediately put onhis biggest boots, assumed a sober, responsible manner, andsurveyed his little responsibilities with a paternal air, drollylike his father's. Tilly tied on her mother's bunch of keys, rolledup the sleeves of her homespun gown, and began to order about theyounger girls. They soon forgot poor Granny, and found it great funto keep house all alone, for Mother seldom left home, but ruled herfamily in the good old-fashioned way. There were no servants, forthe little daughters were Mrs. Bassett's only maids, and the stoutboys helped their father, all working happily together with nowages but love; learning in the best manner the use of the headsand hands with which they were to make their own way in theworld.
The few flakes that caused the farmer to predict badweather soon increased to a regular snow-storm, with gusts of wind,for up among the hills winter came early and lingered long. But thechildren were busy, gay, and warm in-doors, and never minded therising gale nor the whirling white storm outside.
Tilly got them a good dinner, and when it was overthe two elder girls went to their spinning, for in the kitchenstood the big and little wheels, and baskets of wool-rolls, readyto be twisted into yarn for the winter's knitting, and each daybrought its stint of work to the daughters, who hoped to be asthrifty as their mother.
Eph kept up a glorious fire, and superintended thesmall boys, who popped corn and whittled boats on the hearth; whileRoxy and Rhody dressed corn-cob dolls in the settle corner, andBose, the brindled mastiff, lay on the braided mat, luxuriouslywarming his old legs. Thus employed, they made a pretty picture,these rosy boys and girls, in their homespun suits, with the rustictoys or tasks which most children nowadays would find very poor ortiresome.
Tilly and Prue sang, as they stepped to and fro,drawing out the smoothly twisted threads to the musical hum of thegreat spinning-wheels. The little girls chattered like magpies overtheir dolls and the new bed-spread they were planning to make, allwhite dimity stars on a blue calico ground, as a Christmas presentto Ma. The boys roared at Eph's jokes, and had rough and tumblegames over Bose, who didn't mind them in the least; and so theafternoon wore pleasantly away.
At sunset the boys went out to feed the cattle,bring in heaps of wood, and lock up for the night, as the lonelyfarm-house seldom had visitors after dark. The girls got the simplesupper of brown b