Short Fiction Kate Chopin (best e reader for android .txt) đ
- Author: Kate Chopin
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It was time to dance again with ZaĂŻda and he went in search of her. He was carrying her shawl, which she had given him to hold.
âWâat time it is?â she asked him when he had found and secured her. They were under one of the kerosene lamps on the front gallery and he drew forth his silver watch. She seemed to be still laboring under some suppressed excitement that he had noticed before.
âItâs foâteen minutes pasâ twelve,â he told her exactly.
âI wish youâd fine out wâere Jules is. Go look yonda in the card-room if heâs there, anâ come tell me.â Jules had danced with all the prettiest girls. She knew it was his custom after accomplishing this agreeable feat, to retire to the card-room.
âYouâll wait yere till I come back?â he asked.
âIâll wait yere; you go on.â She waited but drew back a little into the shadow. TelĂšsphore lost no time.
âYes, heâs yonda playinâ cards with FochĂ© anâ some others I donâ know,â he reported when he had discovered her in the shadow. There had been a spasm of alarm when he did not at once see her where he had left her under the lamp.
âDoes he lookâ âlook like heâs fixed yonda foâ good?â
âHeâs got his coat off. Looks like heâs fixed pretty comfâtable foâ the nexâ hour or two.â
âGiâ me my shawl.â
âYou cole?â offering to put it around her.
âNo, I ainât cole.â She drew the shawl about her shoulders and turned as if to leave him. But a sudden generous impulse seemed to move her, and she added:
âCome along yonda with me.â
They descended the few rickety steps that led down to the yard. He followed rather than accompanied her across the beaten and trampled sward. Those who saw them thought they had gone out to take the air. The beams of light that slanted out from the house were fitful and uncertain, deepening the shadows. The embers under the empty gumbo-pot glared red in the darkness. There was a sound of quiet voices coming from under the trees.
ZaĂŻda, closely accompanied by TelĂšsphore, went out where the vehicles and horses were fastened to the fence. She stepped carefully and held up her skirts as if dreading the least speck of dew or of dust.
âUnhitch Julesâ hoâse anâ buggy there anâ turn âem ârounâ this way, please.â He did as instructed, first backing the pony, then leading it out to where she stood in the half-made road.
âYou goinâ home?â he asked her, âbetta let me water the pony.â
âNeva mine.â She mounted and seating herself grasped the reins. âNo, I aint goinâ home,â she added. He, too, was holding the reins gathered in one hand across the ponyâs back.
âWâere you goinâ?â he demanded.
âNeva you mine wâere Iâm goinâ.â
âYou ainât goinâ anywâere this time oâ night by yoâseâf?â
âWâat you reckon Iâm âfraid of?â she laughed. âTurn loose that hoâse,â at the same time urging the animal forward. The little brute started away with a bound and TelĂšsphore, also with a bound, sprang into the buckboard and seated himself beside ZaĂŻda.
âYou ainât goinâ anywâere this time oâ night by yoâseâf.â It was not a question now, but an assertion, and there was no denying it. There was even no disputing it, and ZaĂŻda recognizing the fact drove on in silence.
There is no animal that moves so swiftly across a âCadian prairie as the little Creole pony. This one did not run nor trot; he seemed to reach out in galloping bounds. The buckboard creaked, bounced, jolted and swayed. ZaĂŻda clutched at her shawl while TelĂšsphore drew his straw hat further down over his right eye and offered to drive. But he did not know the road and she would not let him. They had soon reached the woods.
If there is any animal that can creep more slowly through a wooded road than the little Creole pony, that animal has not yet been discovered in Acadie. This particular animal seemed to be appalled by the darkness of the forest and filled with dejection. His head drooped and he lifted his feet as if each hoof were weighted with a thousand pounds of lead. Anyone unacquainted with the peculiarities of the breed would sometimes have fancied that he was standing still. But ZaĂŻda and TelĂšsphore knew better. ZaĂŻda uttered a deep sigh as she slackened her hold on the reins and TelĂšsphore, lifting his hat, let it swing from the back of his head.
âHow you donâ ask me wâere Iâm goinâ?â she said finally. These were the first words she had spoken since refusing his offer to drive.
âOh, it donâ make any diffâence wâere you goinâ.â
âThen if it donâ make any diffâence wâere Iâm goinâ, I jusâ as well tell you.â She hesitated, however. He seemed to have no curiosity and did not urge her.
âIâm goinâ to get married,â she said.
He uttered some kind of an exclamation; it was nothing articulateâ âmore like the tone of an animal that gets a sudden knife thrust. And now he felt how dark the forest was. An instant before it had seemed a sweet, black paradise; better than any heaven he had ever heard of.
âWây canât you get married at home?â This was not the first thing that occurred to him to say, but this was the first thing he said.
âAh, bâen oui! with perfecâ mules foâ a father anâ mother! itâs good enough to talk.â
âWây couldnâ he come anâ get you? Wâat kine of a scoundâel is that to let you go through the woods at night by yoâseâf?â
âYou betta wait till you know who you talkinâ about. He didnâ come anâ get me because he knows I ainât âfraid; anâ because heâs got too much pride to ride in Jules Trodonâs buckboard afta he done been put out oâ Jules Trodonâs house.â
âWatâs his name anâ wâere you goinâ to fine âim?â
âYonda on the other side the woods up at ole
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