The Country of the Pointed Firs Sarah Orne Jewett (bill gates best books TXT) đ
- Author: Sarah Orne Jewett
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One morning, very early, I heard Mrs. Todd in the garden outside my window. By the unusual loudness of her remarks to a passerby, and the notes of a familiar hymn which she sang as she worked among the herbs, and which came as if directed purposely to the sleepy ears of my consciousness, I knew that she wished I would wake up and come and speak to her.
In a few minutes she responded to a morning voice from behind the blinds. âI expect youâre goinâ up to your schoolhouse to pass all this pleasant day; yes, I expect youâre goinâ to be dreadful busy,â she said despairingly.
âPerhaps not,â said I. âWhy, whatâs going to be the matter with you, Mrs. Todd?â For I supposed that she was tempted by the fine weather to take one of her favorite expeditions along the shore pastures to gather herbs and simples, and would like to have me keep the house.
âNo, I donât want to go nowhere by land,â she answered gaylyâ ââno, not by land; but I donât knowâs we shall have a better day all the rest of the summer to go out to Green Island anâ see mother. I waked up early thinkinâ of her. The windâs light northeastâ ââtwill take us right straight out, anâ this time oâ year itâs liable to change round southwest anâ fetch us home pretty, âlong late in the afternoon. Yes, itâs goinâ to be a good day.â
âSpeak to the captain and the Bowden boy, if you see anybody going by toward the landing,â said I. âWeâll take the big boat.â
âOh, my sakes! now you let me do things my way,â said Mrs. Todd scornfully. âNo, dear, we wonât take no big boât. Iâll just git a handy dory, anâ Johnny Bowden anâ me, weâll man her ourselves. I donât want no abler boât than a good dory, anâ a nice light breeze ainât goinâ to make no sea; anâ Johnnyâs my cousinâs sonâ âmotherâll like to have him come; anâ heâll be down to the herrinâ weirs all the time weâre there, anyway; we donât want to carry no men folks havinâ to be considered every minute anâ takinâ up all our time. No, you let me do; weâll just slip out anâ see mother by ourselves. I guess what breakfast youâll wantâs about ready now.â
I had become well acquainted with Mrs. Todd as landlady, herb-gatherer, and rustic philosopher; we had been discreet fellow-passengers once or twice when I had sailed up the coast to a larger town than Dunnet Landing to do some shopping; but I was yet to become acquainted with her as a mariner. An hour later we pushed off from the landing in the desired dory. The tide was just on the turn, beginning to fall, and several friends and acquaintances stood along the side of the dilapidated wharf and cheered us by their words and evident interest. Johnny Bowden and I were both rowing in haste to get out where we could catch the breeze and put up the small sail which lay clumsily furled along the gunwale. Mrs. Todd sat aft, a stern and unbending lawgiver.
âYou better let her drift; weâll get there âbout as quick; the tideâll take her right out from under these old buildinâs; thereâs plenty wind outside.â
âYour boât ainât trimmed proper, Misâ Todd!â exclaimed a voice from shore. âYouâre loâded so the boâtâll drag; you canât git her before the wind, maâam. You set âmidships, Misâ Todd, anâ let the boy hold the sheet ânâ steer after he gits the sail up; you wonât never git out to Green Island that way. Sheâs loâded bad, your boât isâ âsheâs heavy behindâs she is now!â
Mrs. Todd turned with some difficulty and regarded the anxious adviser, my right oar flew out of water, and we seemed about to capsize. âThat you, Asa? Good-morninâ,â she said politely. âI alâays liked the starn seat best. Whenâd you git back from up country?â
This allusion to Asaâs origin was not lost upon the rest of the company. We were some little distance from shore, but we could hear a chuckle of laughter, and Asa, a person who was too ready with his criticism and advice on every possible subject, turned and walked indignantly away.
When we caught the wind we were soon on our seaward course, and only stopped to underrun a trawl, for the floats of which Mrs. Todd looked earnestly, explaining that her mother might not be prepared for three extra to dinner; it was her brotherâs trawl, and she meant to just run her eye along for the right sort of a little haddock. I leaned over the boatâs side with great interest and excitement, while she skillfully handled the long line of hooks, and made scornful remarks upon worthless, bait-consuming creatures of the sea as she reviewed them and left them on the trawl or shook them off into the waves. At last we came to what she pronounced a proper haddock, and having taken him on board and ended his life resolutely, we went our way.
As we sailed along I listened to an increasingly delightful commentary upon the islands, some of them barren rocks, or at best giving sparse pasturage for sheep in the early summer. On one of these an eager little flock ran to the waterâs edge and bleated at us so affectingly that I would willingly have stopped; but Mrs. Todd steered away from the rocks, and scolded at the sheepâs mean owner, an acquaintance of hers, who grudged the little salt and still less care which the patient creatures needed. The hot midsummer sun makes prisons of these small islands that are a paradise in early June, with their cool springs and short thick-growing grass. On a larger island, farther out to sea, my entertaining companion showed me with glee the small houses of two farmers who shared the island between them, and declared that for three generations the
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