Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1874-05-28
NO. 1913.
entertainments.
QUALITY HILL.

room, with her feet on the rug of her chair
and her fingers in her ears.
81 like to hear thunder well enough
don't know but what | do. am not any
afraid of that. But / be some scarf of the
lightning ~ said she, starting as the heav-
ems blazed over with sheet of flame in
instant glory, with crash and rear that
found its way through her fat fingers and
through two wads of cotton, bursting on
her ears like the trump of doom.
''Mercy on me - shrieked Mrs. Wood
cock, THAT struck" "Now you may rely
upon it, as true as you arc living crea-
ture, that struck"'
Mr.. Spoford's old sorrel horse, the only
living creature in sight, made no reply,
but kept on nibbling away at the white
clover on the green before the door. He
only turned his back to the driving rain,
that flew from the west to the east so fast,
and so heavy that it was more like bank
of fog than moving drops of water; and
gave passing shiver when the rainfall
changed to hail, and ratified down in stones
as large as birds eggs
But Mrs. Woodcock was above the blind
trust OF the beast; so, pale and trembling,
she pressed her hands tighter over her ears
and looked at spiders web in the dark
est corner of the room as steadfastly as if
she was sitting for her photograph.
The thunder growled itself TO sleep at
last, the lightning flashed its life away
and the sun broke out like sudden smile
on baby's face. Still the unconscious
Mrs. Woodcock held on to her ears and
gazed at the SPIDERS web until the outer
door was flung opeo, and the choreboy
shuilled in. He was a hempen-haired,
buttermilk-eyed lad of fifteen, who was
either half-witted or half-crazed-possibly
BOTH
'Io. Aunt Prissy," he cried; what
are you keeping independence for, the
day after the Fourth? 1t has all come off
as clear as new cider, and you are wasting
your time sitting there like statue. You
better be mending my pantaloons."
As he spoke, a sudden sunbeam darted
through the western window, and flashed
athwart the corner.
''lf there isn't Il cobweb right in my
Kitchen" quoth Mrs. Woodcock, deliber-
ately putting down her fingers and her
feet, and going for wing-a gray goose
wing that hung by strip Of red calico on
Il nail behind the door.
"Oh. you come, Orson ?" Where did it
strike ?" she continued, appearing to dis
cover the grinning boy.
The hail struck everywhere, particu-
lar on Dr. Seacrest's grape vines. |
havn't heard as the thunder struck at ALL
not even on some folks ear" returned
Orson. who was mainly composed of Il
pair OF over grown bare feet, blue cotton
frock and overalls, a set of broad, white
teeth, and a weather-beaten hat, with
wide, slouching brm.
"1ou don't mean to say the doctors
grape-vines are hurt essentially, do you ?"
inquired Mrs. Woodcock, deaf to the i'm
pertinence as she had been to the thunder.
Don't know nothing about no es-
sences,' replied Orson, who was fond OF
long words, but not clear to their use.
But | can tell you one thing though.
You ought Just to see the doctors new
grape-vinery he sets so much by. The
tendons and young grapes are fairly
chewed to bits Yes'm. | don't expect
five hundred dollars in gold would put it
back to where it was an hour ago"
GLOW you talk !" gasped Mrs. Wood
Geek, who liked to have things happen.
and the worse they happened the better
she liked it. She was very kind-hearted
soul, but something to talk over was worth
as much as her dinner.
"But is it so ?" she continued, doubt
fully. Really and truly, Orson? Now
speak the truth just exactly as it is.n
Orson had as much idea of the truth rs
he had Of geology.
YES m" said he, getting bolder. "The
doctor said to me, 'Orson Larely,' said he.
81 wouldn't have this Management done
to my vntonage not if you offered me
five hundred dollar bill ight in my hand
And then he looked as sober as anything,
and walked straight into the house. II
saw Mrs. Seacrest through the oriole Win
ought to take look at it yourself, Aunt
Prissy, if you don't believe me-" he con-
cluded in an aggrieved tone.
Mrs. Woodcock did not believe him en-
tirely. to be sure, but yet there might be
reflection, she decided it would be handy
house, and she might as well step up to
the doctors and get it then rs any time.
There was no need to wait for the grass
to dry, for Mrs Woodcock's chocolate and
white calico, guiltless of panier and in
broad plantain leaves and the fairy speed
Ncil ulooSoiuS WSiA-thOdeiSh
lootpath that led from her doorstep
straight into the world. And her heavy
calt-skin shoes squeaked to seorn the idea
of wetting through
So she tied on her log-cabin sun-bonnet
that had pert calico bow prospecting
from the top, took her crooked-handled
green gingham umbrella, to act the double
part of supporter and protector, and set
out-not to seek her fortune, but to seek
somebody's misfortune,
The way to DR.. Seacrest's was across
the green away from the black cotton mills
down by the river; away from the street
of stiff white cottages, where the mill OPP
orators lived; away from the common
place. two-story dwellings clustering
around the church, the store, the black
smiths shop and the post office to a bit
of level slightly removed from The Hol-
low by sloping hill. Here were seat
tered group of houses where the doctor,
the mill owner, the minister and two or
three prosperous farmers lived. Lived,
so the Hollow people said, ''stuck up" and