Understood Betsy by Dorothy Canfield Fisher (iphone ebook reader .TXT) đ
- Author: Dorothy Canfield Fisher
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tails braided with bright ribbon; and then, âOh, Betsy, LOOK at the
pig!â screamed Molly againâthe smaller animals, the sheep, the calves,
the colts, and the pig, which waddled along with portly dignity.
Betsy looked as well as she could over her shoulder ⊠and in years to
come she can shut her eyes and see again in every detail that rustic
procession under the golden, September light.
But she looked anxiously at the clock. It was nearing five. Oh, suppose
the girl forgot and danced too long!
âTwo bottles of ginger ale and half a dozen doughnuts,â said a man with
a woman and three children.
Betsy looked feverishly among the bottles ranged on the counter,
selected two marked ginger ale, and glared at their corrugated tin
stoppers. How DID you get them open?
âHereâs your opener,â said the man, âif thatâs what youâre looking for.
Here, you get the glasses and Iâll open the bottles. Weâre in kind of a
hurry. Got to catch a train.â
Well, they were not the only people who had to catch a train, Betsy
thought sadly. They drank in gulps and departed, cramming doughnuts into
their mouths. Betsy wished ardently that the girl would come back. She
was now almost sure that she had forgotten and would dance there till
nightfall. But there, there she came, running along, as light-footed
after an hourâs dancing as when she had left the booth.
âHere you are, kid,â said the young man, producing a quarter. âWeâve had
the time of our young lives, thanks to you.â
Betsy gave him back one of the nickels that remained to her, but he
refused it.
âNo, keep the change,â he said royally. âIt was worth it.â
âThen Iâll buy two doughnuts with my extra nickel,â said Betsy.
âNo, you wonât,â said the girl. âYouâll take all you want for nothing âŠ
Mommaâll never miss âem. And what you sell here has got to be fresh
every day. Here, hold out your hands, both of you.â
âSome people came and bought things,â said Betsy, happening to remember
as she and Molly turned away. âThe money is on that shelf.â
âWell, NOW!â said the girl, âif she didnât take hold and sell things!
Say ⊠ââshe ran after Betsy and gave her a hugââyou smart young one,
I wishât I had a little sister just like you!â
Molly and Betsy hurried along out of the gate into the main street of
the town and down to the station. Molly was eating doughnuts as she
went. They were both quite hungry by this time, but Betsy could not
think of eating till she had those tickets in her hand.
She pushed her quarter and a nickel into the ticket-sellerâs window and
said âHillsboroâ in as confident a tone as she could; but when the
precious bits of paper were pushed out at her and she actually held
them, her knees shook under her and she had to go and sit down on the
bench.
âMy! Arenât these doughnuts good?â said Molly. âI never in my life had
ENOUGH doughnuts before!â
Betsy drew a long breath and began rather languidly to eat one herself;
she felt, all of a sudden, very, very tired.
She was tireder still when they got out of the train at Hillsboro
Station and started wearily up the road toward Putney Farm. Two miles
lay before them, two miles which they had often walked before, but never
after such a day as now lay back of them. Molly dragged her feet as she
walked and hung heavily on Betsyâs hand. Betsy plodded along, her head
hanging, her eyes all gritty with fatigue and sleepiness. A light buggy
spun round the turn of the road behind them, the single horse trotting
fast as though the driver were in a hurry, the wheels rattling smartly
on the hard road. The little girls drew out to one side and stood
waiting till the road should be free again. When he saw them the driver
pulled the horse back so quickly it stood almost straight up. He peered
at them through the twilight and then with a loud shout sprang over the
side of the buggy.
It was Uncle Henryâoh, goody, it was Uncle Henry come to meet them!
They wouldnât have to walk any further!
But what was the matter with Uncle Henry? He ran up to them, exclaiming,
âAre ye all right? Are ye all right?â He stooped over and felt of them
desperately as though he expected them to be broken somewhere. And Betsy
could feel that his old hands were shaking, that he was trembling all
over. When she said, âWhy, yes, Uncle Henry, weâre all right. We came
home on the cars,â Uncle Henry leaned up against the fence as though he
couldnât stand up. He took off his hat and wiped his forehead and he
saidâit didnât seem as though it could be Uncle Henry talking, he
sounded so excitedââWell, wellâwell, by gosh! My! Well, by thunder!
Now! And so here ye are! And youâre all right! WELL!â
He couldnât seem to stop exclaiming, and you canât imagine anything
stranger than an Uncle Henry who couldnât stop exclaiming.
After they all got into the buggy he quieted down a little and said,
âThunderation! But weâve had a scare! When the Wendells come back with
their cousins early this afternoon, they said you were coming with the
Vaughans. And then when you didnât come and DIDNâT come, we telephoned
to the Vaughans, and they said they hadnât seen hide nor hair of ye, and
didnât even know you were TO the Fair at all! I tell you, your Aunt
Abigail and I had an awful turn! Ann and I hitched up quickerân scat and
she put right out with Prince up toward Woodford and I took Jessie down
this way; thought maybe Iâd get trace of ye somewhere here. Well, land!â
He wiped his forehead again. âWaânât I glad to see you standinâ
there ⊠get along, Jess! I want to get the news to Abigail soon as I
can!â
âNow tell me what in thunder DID happen to you!â
Betsy began at the beginning and told straight through, interrupted at
first by indignant comments from Uncle Henry, who was outraged by the
Wendellsâ loose wearing of their responsibility for the children. But as
she went on he quieted down to a closely attentive silence, interrupting
only to keep Jess at her top speed.
Now that it was all safely over, Betsy thought her story quite an
interesting one, and she omitted no detail, although she wondered once
or twice if perhaps Uncle Henry were listening to her, he kept so still.
âAnd so I bought the tickets and we got home,â she ended, adding, âOh,
Uncle Henry, you ought to have seen the prize pig! He was TOO funny!â
They turned into the Putney yard now and saw Aunt Abigailâs bulky form
on the porch.
âGot âem, Abby! All right! No harm done!â shouted Uncle Henry.
Aunt Abigail turned without a word and went back into the house. When
the little girls dragged their weary legs in they found her quietly
setting out some supper for them on the table, but she was wiping away
with her apron the joyful tears which ran down her cheeks, such white
cheeks! It seemed so strange to see rosy Aunt Abigail with a face like
paper.
âWell, Iâm glad to see ye,â she told them soberly. âSit right down and
have some hot milk. I had some all ready.â
The telephone rang, she went into the next room, and they heard her
saying, in an unsteady voice: âAll right, Ann. Theyâre here. Your father
just brought them in. I havenât had time to hear about what happened
yet. But theyâre all right. Youâd better come home.â
âThatâs your Cousin Ann telephoning from the Marshallsâ.â
She herself went and sat down heavily, and when Uncle Henry came in a
few minutes later she asked him in a rather weak voice for the ammonia
bottle. He rushed for it, got her a fan and a drink of cold water, and
hung over her anxiously till the color began to come back into her pale
face. âI know just how you feel, Mother,â he said sympathetically. âWhen
I saw âem standinâ there by the roadside I felt as though somebody had
hit me a clip right in the pit of the stomach.â
The little girls ate their supper in a tired daze, not paying any
attention to what the grown-ups were saying, until rapid hoofs clicked
on the stones outside and Cousin Ann came in quickly, her black eyes
snapping.
âNow, for mercyâs sake, tell me what happened,â she said, adding hotly,
âand if I donât give that Maria Wendell a piece of my mind!â
Uncle Henry broke in: âIâM going to tell what happened. I WANT to do
it. You and Mother just listen, just sit right down and listen.â His
voice was shaking with feeling, and as he went on and told of Betsyâs
afternoon, her fright, her confusion, her forming the plan of coming
home on the train and of earning the money for the tickets, he made, for
once, no Putney pretense of casual coolness. His old eyes flashed fire
as he talked.
Betsy, watching him, felt her heart swell and beat fast in incredulous
joy. Why, he was proud of her! She had done something to make the Putney
cousins proud of her!
When Uncle Henry came to the part where she went on asking for
employment after one and then another refusal, Cousin Ann reached out
her long arms and quickly, almost roughly, gathered Betsy up on her lap,
holding her close as she listened. Betsy had never before sat on Cousin
Annâs lap.
And when Uncle Henry finishedâhe had not forgotten a single thing Betsy
had told himâand asked, âWhat do you think of THAT for a little girl
ten years old today?â Cousin Ann opened the flood-gates wide and burst
out, âI think I never heard of a childâs doing a smarter, grittier
thing ⊠AND I DONâT CARE IF SHE DOES HEAR ME SAY SO!â
It was a great, a momentous, an historic moment!
Betsy, enthroned on those strong knees, wondered if any little girl had
ever had such a beautiful birthday.
âUNDERSTOOD AUNT FRANCESâ
About a month, after Betsyâs birthday, one October day when the leaves
were all red and yellow, two very momentous events occurred, and, in a
manner of speaking, at the very same time. Betsy had noticed that her
kitten Eleanor (she still thought of her as a kitten, although she was
now a big, grown-up cat) spent very little time around the house. She
came into the kitchen two or three times a day, mewing loudly for milk
and food, but after eating very fast she always disappeared at once.
Betsy missed the purring, contented ball of fur on her lap in the long
evenings as she played checkers, or read aloud, or sewed, or played
guessing games. She felt rather hurt, too, that Eleanor paid her so
little attention, and several times she tried hard to make her stay,
trailing in front of her a spool tied to a string or rolling a worsted
ball across the floor. But Eleanor seemed to have lost all her taste for
the things she had liked so much. Invariably, the moment the door was
opened, she darted out and vanished.
One afternoon Betsy ran out after her, determined to catch her and bring
her
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