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Mildred Keith

<h2>Chapter Fourteenth.</h2> <div class='poem'> "Jest and youthful jollity, Quips and cranks and wanton wiles, Nods and becks and wreathed smiles." </div> "There had better be less talk, if these rags are all to be sewed to-day," remarked Miss Drybread, taking a fresh supply from the basket, then straightening herself till she was, if possible, more erect than before. "I can talk and work too; my needle haint stopped because my tongue was runnin'," retorted Viny; "and it strikes me you've been doin' your share as well's the rest." "My second ball's done," said Claudina, tossing it up. "A good big one too, and wound real tight," said Rhoda Jane taking it, giving it a squeeze, then rolling it into a corner where quite a pile had collected. "How quick you are, Claudina," said Mildred. "Not so very; I've been at it quite a good[177] while. Some folks can pretty nearly make two to my one." And she glanced toward Miss Drybread who was just beginning to wind her second. "But 'tain't everybody that winds em as good and solid as you do, Claudina," said another girl significantly; "windin' loose can make a ball grow fast, I tell you!" "'All is not gold that glitters,'" quoted Mildred. "I'd begin to wind if I were you," said Claudina, "you have quite a pile there and it might get into a tangle." "Thank you. I'm new to the business," said Mildred laughing, "and shall take the advice of an older hand." "Supper's ready," announced Minerva, opening the kitchen door. "Put down your rags and walk right out, ladies," said Rhoda Jane. "It seems to me that I, for one, need some preparation," said Mildred, dropping hers and looking at her hands. "Oh yes, we'll wash out here," said Rhoda Jane, leading the way. A tin bucket full of water, a dipper and washbasin, all bright from a recent scouring, stood on a bench in the shed at the outer[178] kitchen door; a piece of brown soap lay there also, and a clean crash towel hung on a nail in the wall close by. The girls used these in turn, laughing and chatting merrily the while, then gathered about the table, which was bountifully spread with good plain country fare—chicken, ham, dried beef, pickles, tomatoes, cucumbers and radishes, cheese, eggs, pie, cake and preserves, in several varieties, hot cakes and cold bread, tea and coffee. None of the family partook with their guests except Rhoda Jane; they would eat afterwards; and Mrs. Lightcap busied herself now in waiting upon the table; filling the tea and coffee cups in the shed where the cooking stove stood during the months of the year when its heat was objectionable in the house. "I don't know as we've earned our supper, Mis' Lightcap," remarked one of the girls, stirring her tea; "we hain't begun to git all them rags sewed up yet." "Well, then, I'll just set you to work again as soon as you're done eatin'; that'll do just as well; folks don't always pay in advance, you know." "And if we don't get through 'fore the boys come we'll make them help," said Rhoda Jane. [179] "What boys?" queried Mildred; whereat several of the girls giggled. "Why the fellows, of course," laughed Miss Lightcap; "the boys is what we mostly call 'em; though some of 'em's pretty old, I should judge, for that." "Yes, there's Rocap Stubblefield, must be thirty at least," said one. "And Nick Ransquattle's twenty-five if he's a day," remarked another. "Well, the rest's young enough," said Mrs. Lightcap. "Pass that cake there, Rhoda Jane. There's my Gotobed just turned twenty-one, and York Mocker, and Wallace Ormsby, and Claudina's brother Will's all younger by some months or a year or so." The meal concluded, the work went on quite briskly again, Mildred catching now and then a whispered word or two about the desirableness of getting through with it in time to have some fun; but the raw material for several more balls still remained in the basket when "the boys" began to come. Gotobed was naturally among the first. He was quite "slicked up," as Rhoda Jane elegantly expressed it, though his toilet had been made under difficulties. The only legitimate way of reaching the[180] second story and his Sunday clothes, was by a stairway leading up from the front room, where the girls were. The windows of his bedroom, however, looked out upon the leanto which formed the kitchen part of the building and whose roof was not many feet higher than that of the shed. Watching his opportunity for doing so unseen, he climbed upon the shed, gained the roof of the leanto, and entered his room by the window. There was nothing of the dandy about the honest fellow, yet somehow dressing was a slow business with him to-night; he stood before a little square of looking-glass hanging on the wall, tying and retying his cravat till it was too dark to see, then giving up in sheer despair went down over the roof as he had come, and sought his mother, who, with the help of Emmaretta and Minerva, was washing dishes in the kitchen. "My land!" she exclaimed, as he came in, "what a time you've been up there. I never knowed you to take half as long to dress afore." "My fingers are all thumbs," he said, a hot flush overspreading his sunburnt face, "I can't tie this decent nohow at all." [181] "Well, just wait till I can wipe my hands, and I'll do it. There, that'll do; the girls ain't agoin' to look partickler hard at that bit o' black ribbing." "Maybe not, but I'm obleeged to you all the same for fixin' it right. Is it time to go in?" "Of course, if you want to." He passed out at the back door and through the yard into the street. He was bashful and did not like to face such a bevy of girls alone; at the thought of addressing one of their number in especial—Mildred Keith—he felt himself grow hot and uncomfortable. He had been admiring her from a distance all these weeks, but had never met her, and much as he desired an acquaintance, his courage seemed hardly equal to seeking it now. How rough and boorish, how awkward and ill-bred he would appear to one so delicate and refined. He waited about a little, till joined by a fellow mechanic, Nicholas Ransquattle, when they went in together. This was a wiser step than Gotobed knew; for his well-made, stalwart figure showed to good advantage beside that of Nicholas, who was short and thick-set, had scarcely any neck,[182] moved like a wooden man, and carried his head thrown back on his shoulders; he had a wooden face, too; large featured and stolid in expression. But he was not troubled with bashfulness or any fear that his society would be other than most acceptable to any one upon whom he might see fit to bestow it. "Good evening, ladies; I'm happy to meet you all," he said, making a sweeping bow to the company as he entered, hat in hand. "And I hope I see you well." "Good evening," responded several voices. "Good-evening, Mr. Lightcap." "Find yourselves seats and we'll give you employment, threading our needles for us." Rhoda Jane was snuffing the candles. Hastily laying down her snuffers, she introduced the young men to Mildred, and dexterously managed to seat Ransquattle on the farther side of the room, leaving the field clear for her brother; for an empty chair stood invitingly at Miss Keith's side. Gotobed took it, and, almost wondering at his own audacity, addressed his divinity with a remark upon the weather—that never-failing resource when all other topics elude us. She answered with gracious sweetness, [183] "Yes it has been a lovely day, Mr. Lightcap." What should he say next. "I—I guess you never sewed carpet rags afore?" "Is it my awkwardness at the business that makes you think so?" she returned, with a quizzical look and smile, as she lifted her fine eyes to his face. "No, no, no sirree! ma'am, I mean," he stammered growing red and hot; "you do it beautiful!" "Let me give you some work," she said, taking pity on his embarrassment; "will you thread this needle for me?" "And then mine, please," put in Claudina, who was again seated near her friend; then to his further relief she launched out into a reminiscence of a candy pulling they had both attended the year before. Others of "the boys" came flocking in, the work was speedily finished, there was some tossing back and forth of the balls, amid rather uproarious laughter; but some of them unwound and became entangled; and so that sport was given up; the girls washed their hands as before supper; Blindman's Buff, Puss in the Corner and other games were played with as much[184] zest as if the players had been a parcel of children; then refreshments followed, served up in the kitchen; huckleberries with cream and sugar, watermelons, and muskmelons, doughnuts and cup cake. At eleven o'clock the party broke up and the young men saw the girls safely home, Gotobed being so fortunate as to secure the privilege of waiting upon Mildred to her father's door. She would, perhaps, have slightly preferred the attentions of Yorke Mocker, or Wallace Ormsby; both of whom she had met before and who were young men of much better education and much more polish and refinement than poor Gotobed. It was Mrs. Keith who admitted her daughter; every one else in the house having retired. "Had you a pleasant time?" she asked, with a motherly smile. "I heard some of the others, as they went away, saying it had been perfectly splendid," Mildred answered with an amused little laugh, "but the fun was of rather too rough a sort for me." "Games?" "Yes, ma'am; and I took part until they began kissing; when I retired to the ranks of the spectators." [185] "That was right," Mrs. Keith said emphatically. "And what do you think, mother?" laughed Mildred. "Viny Apple was one of the guests. The idea of being invited out to meet your ci-devant housemaid and cook! isn't it too funny?" "Well, dear, let us be thankful that Celestine Ann was not invited also; leaving me to get tea to-night," Mrs. Keith said, joining in the laugh. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i025.jpg" width-obs="171" height-obs="76" alt="decoration" /></div> <hr class="chap" />[186] <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i026.jpg" width-obs="203" height-obs="55" alt="decoration" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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