Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Black, White and Gray by Amy Walton (best books to read for young adults txt) 📖
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talking of Becky, and felt that they had a great deal to ask her about her journey, and what she thought of the Manor Farm; but now that they were here, and had shaken hands with her, a sudden silence fell on them all. Somehow Becky in her new surroundings struck them as a sort of stranger, and they stood round her, looking shyly at each other, without finding anything to say. This did not suit Philippa.
"Come and show me where the strawberry beds are," she said to Dennis, and when they had run away together, Maisie drew up a chair and sat down by Becky's side.
"How do you like being here?" she asked.
Becky had a faint tinge of colour in her face now, like a China rose washed in the rain; her dark eyes looked brighter, and when she smiled, something that would soon be a dimple showed in her cheek.
"Very well, thank you," she answered. "I can walk a bit now. This morning I walked as far as yonder rose-bush, and to-morrow I'm goin' to try and get up to the big tree."
"Very well" might have sounded faint praise for the Manor Farm to unaccustomed ears; but Maisie knew that the country-people used the term to express the very highest satisfaction, so she was quite content.
From their snug corner under the shady veranda, the children watched the arrival of the guests, as they came out of the house in twos and threes, and moved into the bright sunshine on the lawn.
"It's like looking at a peep-show or a magic-lantern," said Maisie; "we're in the shadow and they're in the light. Now I'll tell you who they are. Here's Mrs Broadbent and Emmeline and Lilian."
Mrs Broadbent and her two daughters stopped on their way to make many excuses for the absence of Mr Broadbent.
"He's such a one, Mr Solace, for sticking to his work; isn't he, girls? I said this morning, `Now do take a little rest, papa, this afternoon, and leave things to your bailiff for once.' But no. `The master's eye,' he says, `does more work than both his hands.'"
"Well, he's in the right there," said Mr Solace good-humouredly.
"That's little Miss Chester, isn't it?" she went on, her sharp eye catching sight of the children, "and her cousin, Miss Trevor? How delicate she looks, poor child!" She nodded and smiled graciously.
"No, that's not Miss Trevor," replied Mr Solace; "that's my wheelwright's little girl. She's been ill, and she's stopping here for change of air. My wife's going to nurse her up a bit."
"So _odd_!" remarked Mrs Broadbent, as she and her daughters moved on into the garden. "I really do think Mrs Solace might draw the line _somewhere_."
"There's Mr Hurst," continued Maisie; "he's our vicar, you know; and the little lady with white hair and a big hat is his sister, who lives with him. And he's talking to your doctor, Dr Price. I wish he was our doctor, but we're never ill, so it doesn't matter much. I like Dr Price, ever since he told me about the kitten, only I wish he wouldn't keep such cruel dogs. Where _is_ the kitten? Didn't you bring her?"
There was a little lump on Becky's knees covered up by her pinafore. She lifted a corner of it, and showed the grey kitten snugly asleep, curled up like a ball.
"I was afraid so many strange folk would scare her," she said.
The garden was soon full of the sound of voices and laughter, and alive with many-coloured figures. Preparations for tea began to appear in the veranda, and presently Dennis and Philippa came slowly back with heated faces, each bearing a cabbage-leaf full of strawberries.
"Philippa will say that they have bigger ones at Haughton," said Dennis; "so I was determined to find the very biggest I could. Now just look here, Philippa!" He spread out his cabbage-leaf exultingly. "The Manor Farm's _famous_ for its strawberries; there's nothing like them for miles round. Yours at Haughton are all very well, but the very largest would be squinny beside these."
Philippa had plenty to say on the subject as usual, and she carried on a lively dispute with Dennis as to the merits of the strawberries, until the children's tea was brought out, and placed on a little table all to themselves.
During their meal, they could watch the other guests, who came in and out from the garden to rest from the glare of the sun, or to taste the strawberries and cream and other good things provided for them. They all talked and laughed a great deal, and their talk was almost entirely about strawberries and cream. One preferred strawberries alone; another considered cream such a great improvement; a third found the mixture unwholesome, but the fruit alone, beneficial. Lilian Broadbent sauntered in, very much overcome with the heat, and threw herself languidly into the wicker-chair which an attentive young farmer hastened to bring.
"That is the one they want her to marry," whispered Dennis, who knew every one's affairs.
Would she have some strawberries? With or without cream? Did she take sugar? Would she have them prepared for her? After a careless assent had been given to all these questions, Miss Broadbent thought that on the whole strawberries tasted better picked for one's self, only the very thought of stooping in the sun made her head ache. While her admirer suggested ways of overcoming this difficulty, Aunt Katharine and Mr Solace came in, and talked gravely of crops, and then the portly figures of Mrs Solace and Dr Price approached, and stopped to look at the little party of children.
"Your patient does you credit, Mrs Solace," said the doctor. "She looks better already. She'll soon be out of my hands, if she goes on at this rate."
Mrs Solace smiled at Becky with the same sort of comfortable pride as when she looked at a remarkably fine brood of turkeys.
"She's picking up a bit," she said; "but it's early days yet. We'll see how she looks after she's been here a month. I shouldn't wonder if she gets as hearty as Miss Maisie yonder.--Have you told Miss Maisie, Becky, what we're going to make of you, when you get quite strong and well?"
Becky looked shyly down at her plate. It was impossible to answer with so many people waiting to hear.
"Well, well, she'll tell you presently, I daresay," said Mrs Solace, as she moved away with Dr Price's huge figure plunging along beside her.
"What did Mrs Solace mean?" asked Maisie eagerly, when they were out of hearing.
"It's about the chickens," said Becky. "I like 'em ever so much, and Mrs Solace said this morning that some day she'd ask mother to let me come and bide here and look after 'em; but I've got to get strong, and grow a bit first."
"Well!" exclaimed Dennis enviously, "you _are_ in luck!"
"I should earn wages, like Dan," said Becky.
"I only wish I had the chance of working on the farm," said Dennis; "but Aunt Katharine says I must go to school, and all sorts of things, first."
"What would you like to be, if you could?" asked Philippa.
Dennis mashed up his strawberries thoughtfully.
"Wheelwright _best_," he answered; "only that wouldn't have anything to do with the animals. I should like to be the pig-man very well; but it's no use saying what I should like, because I shan't have the chance."
"How nice it will be," said Maisie to Becky, as she set a saucer of cream carefully on the ground for the kitten, "when you and the grey kitten are settled here. Isn't it odd that she should have the very best home of the three, after all? We never thought it would turn out so."
"And she was the meanest and smallest of all the kittens," said Dennis.
"But," added Maisie, "Philippa and I have quite settled that she's the nicest of them, because she's been the greatest comfort."
And now, while the sun shines, and there are happy voices and smiles all around, it is a good moment for us to say farewell to Dennis and Maisie, Philippa and Becky, and to wish them prosperity. We have seen a little part of their lives, and can only guess what shall befall them further; but we know that life cannot be all sunshine and strawberry parties, and that grey skies and dull moments will come to each as time goes on. The best thing we can wish for them, therefore, is that they may be happy whether the sun shines or the rain falls in their way through the world: and this they can surely be, if their hearts are warm and their hands are willing to love and serve others, both in sadness and joy.
THE END.
Imprint
"Come and show me where the strawberry beds are," she said to Dennis, and when they had run away together, Maisie drew up a chair and sat down by Becky's side.
"How do you like being here?" she asked.
Becky had a faint tinge of colour in her face now, like a China rose washed in the rain; her dark eyes looked brighter, and when she smiled, something that would soon be a dimple showed in her cheek.
"Very well, thank you," she answered. "I can walk a bit now. This morning I walked as far as yonder rose-bush, and to-morrow I'm goin' to try and get up to the big tree."
"Very well" might have sounded faint praise for the Manor Farm to unaccustomed ears; but Maisie knew that the country-people used the term to express the very highest satisfaction, so she was quite content.
From their snug corner under the shady veranda, the children watched the arrival of the guests, as they came out of the house in twos and threes, and moved into the bright sunshine on the lawn.
"It's like looking at a peep-show or a magic-lantern," said Maisie; "we're in the shadow and they're in the light. Now I'll tell you who they are. Here's Mrs Broadbent and Emmeline and Lilian."
Mrs Broadbent and her two daughters stopped on their way to make many excuses for the absence of Mr Broadbent.
"He's such a one, Mr Solace, for sticking to his work; isn't he, girls? I said this morning, `Now do take a little rest, papa, this afternoon, and leave things to your bailiff for once.' But no. `The master's eye,' he says, `does more work than both his hands.'"
"Well, he's in the right there," said Mr Solace good-humouredly.
"That's little Miss Chester, isn't it?" she went on, her sharp eye catching sight of the children, "and her cousin, Miss Trevor? How delicate she looks, poor child!" She nodded and smiled graciously.
"No, that's not Miss Trevor," replied Mr Solace; "that's my wheelwright's little girl. She's been ill, and she's stopping here for change of air. My wife's going to nurse her up a bit."
"So _odd_!" remarked Mrs Broadbent, as she and her daughters moved on into the garden. "I really do think Mrs Solace might draw the line _somewhere_."
"There's Mr Hurst," continued Maisie; "he's our vicar, you know; and the little lady with white hair and a big hat is his sister, who lives with him. And he's talking to your doctor, Dr Price. I wish he was our doctor, but we're never ill, so it doesn't matter much. I like Dr Price, ever since he told me about the kitten, only I wish he wouldn't keep such cruel dogs. Where _is_ the kitten? Didn't you bring her?"
There was a little lump on Becky's knees covered up by her pinafore. She lifted a corner of it, and showed the grey kitten snugly asleep, curled up like a ball.
"I was afraid so many strange folk would scare her," she said.
The garden was soon full of the sound of voices and laughter, and alive with many-coloured figures. Preparations for tea began to appear in the veranda, and presently Dennis and Philippa came slowly back with heated faces, each bearing a cabbage-leaf full of strawberries.
"Philippa will say that they have bigger ones at Haughton," said Dennis; "so I was determined to find the very biggest I could. Now just look here, Philippa!" He spread out his cabbage-leaf exultingly. "The Manor Farm's _famous_ for its strawberries; there's nothing like them for miles round. Yours at Haughton are all very well, but the very largest would be squinny beside these."
Philippa had plenty to say on the subject as usual, and she carried on a lively dispute with Dennis as to the merits of the strawberries, until the children's tea was brought out, and placed on a little table all to themselves.
During their meal, they could watch the other guests, who came in and out from the garden to rest from the glare of the sun, or to taste the strawberries and cream and other good things provided for them. They all talked and laughed a great deal, and their talk was almost entirely about strawberries and cream. One preferred strawberries alone; another considered cream such a great improvement; a third found the mixture unwholesome, but the fruit alone, beneficial. Lilian Broadbent sauntered in, very much overcome with the heat, and threw herself languidly into the wicker-chair which an attentive young farmer hastened to bring.
"That is the one they want her to marry," whispered Dennis, who knew every one's affairs.
Would she have some strawberries? With or without cream? Did she take sugar? Would she have them prepared for her? After a careless assent had been given to all these questions, Miss Broadbent thought that on the whole strawberries tasted better picked for one's self, only the very thought of stooping in the sun made her head ache. While her admirer suggested ways of overcoming this difficulty, Aunt Katharine and Mr Solace came in, and talked gravely of crops, and then the portly figures of Mrs Solace and Dr Price approached, and stopped to look at the little party of children.
"Your patient does you credit, Mrs Solace," said the doctor. "She looks better already. She'll soon be out of my hands, if she goes on at this rate."
Mrs Solace smiled at Becky with the same sort of comfortable pride as when she looked at a remarkably fine brood of turkeys.
"She's picking up a bit," she said; "but it's early days yet. We'll see how she looks after she's been here a month. I shouldn't wonder if she gets as hearty as Miss Maisie yonder.--Have you told Miss Maisie, Becky, what we're going to make of you, when you get quite strong and well?"
Becky looked shyly down at her plate. It was impossible to answer with so many people waiting to hear.
"Well, well, she'll tell you presently, I daresay," said Mrs Solace, as she moved away with Dr Price's huge figure plunging along beside her.
"What did Mrs Solace mean?" asked Maisie eagerly, when they were out of hearing.
"It's about the chickens," said Becky. "I like 'em ever so much, and Mrs Solace said this morning that some day she'd ask mother to let me come and bide here and look after 'em; but I've got to get strong, and grow a bit first."
"Well!" exclaimed Dennis enviously, "you _are_ in luck!"
"I should earn wages, like Dan," said Becky.
"I only wish I had the chance of working on the farm," said Dennis; "but Aunt Katharine says I must go to school, and all sorts of things, first."
"What would you like to be, if you could?" asked Philippa.
Dennis mashed up his strawberries thoughtfully.
"Wheelwright _best_," he answered; "only that wouldn't have anything to do with the animals. I should like to be the pig-man very well; but it's no use saying what I should like, because I shan't have the chance."
"How nice it will be," said Maisie to Becky, as she set a saucer of cream carefully on the ground for the kitten, "when you and the grey kitten are settled here. Isn't it odd that she should have the very best home of the three, after all? We never thought it would turn out so."
"And she was the meanest and smallest of all the kittens," said Dennis.
"But," added Maisie, "Philippa and I have quite settled that she's the nicest of them, because she's been the greatest comfort."
And now, while the sun shines, and there are happy voices and smiles all around, it is a good moment for us to say farewell to Dennis and Maisie, Philippa and Becky, and to wish them prosperity. We have seen a little part of their lives, and can only guess what shall befall them further; but we know that life cannot be all sunshine and strawberry parties, and that grey skies and dull moments will come to each as time goes on. The best thing we can wish for them, therefore, is that they may be happy whether the sun shines or the rain falls in their way through the world: and this they can surely be, if their hearts are warm and their hands are willing to love and serve others, both in sadness and joy.
THE END.
Imprint
Publication Date: 08-11-2009
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