Alls Well | Page 8

steps, and the elder quitted her seat to leave
Friswith room to pass.
"Good-morrow, Pen! So you've got Patience there?"
"I haven't much, I'm afraid," said Pen, laughing. "I came out here
because the lads made such a noise I could scarce hear myself speak;
and I wanted to teach Patience her hymn. Charity knows hers; but
Patience learns slower."
"Are they with you, then--both?"
"For a few days. Mistress Bradbridge is gone to visit her brother at
Chelmsford, so she left her little maids with Mother."
"What a company must you be! How can you ever squeeze into the
house?"
"Oh, folks can squeeze into small corners when they choose," said
Penuel Pardue, with a smile. "A very little corner will hold both Charity
and Patience."
"Then you haven't much of either," answered Friswith satirically.
"Look you here, Pen!"
And unrolling her ribbon, she displayed its crimson beauties.
"What's that for?"
"For my hat! You can tell Beatrice, if you like, she won't be the
best-dressed maid at church next Sunday."

"I should never suppose she would," was the quiet reply.
"Oh, I saw her blue ribbons! But I'll be as grand as she, you'll see now.
Mother sent me to buy her a coif, and I got this for the money too.
Don't you wish you were me?"
"No, Friswith, I don't think I do," said Penuel gravely.
"That's because you think Mother will scold. I'll stand up to her if she
do. She's always bidding us stand up to folks, and I'll see how she likes
it herself a bit!"
With which very dutiful speech, Friswith took her departure.
Penuel looked after her for a moment, and then, with a shake of her
head which meant more than words, turned back to Patience and the
hymn.
"Now, little Patience, try to learn the next verse. I will say it over to
thee.
"`And in the presence of my foes My table Thou shalt spread; Thou
shalt, O Lord, fill full my cup, And eke anoint my head.'"
"Who be my foes, Pen?" said Patience.
"Folks that tease and trouble thee, my child."
"Oh!" responded Patience, instantly making a practical application.
"Toby and Silas, that is. But they didn't see you spread the table, Pen.
They were out playing on the green."
Penuel tried to "improve" this very literal rendering of the Psalm, but
found it impossible to advance further than the awakening in Patience's
mind an expectation of a future, but equally literal table, the dainties on
which Toby and Silas would not be privileged to share.
"I won't give them the lessest bit, 'cause they're my foes," said Patience
stubbornly. "You shall have some, Pen, and so shall Beatie-- and

Abbafull, if he's good. He tied my shoe."
"Aphabell, not Abbafull," corrected Penuel. "But, Patience, that won't
serve: you've got to forgive your enemies."
"They shan't have one bit!" announced Patience, putting her hands
behind her back, as if to emphasise her statement. "Pen, what does
`anoint my head' mean?"
"Pour oil on it," said Penuel.
"I won't have oil on my head! I'll pour it on Silas and Toby. It'll run
down and dirt their clothes, and then Mother Pardue'll thwack 'em."
"Patience, Patience! Little maids mustn't want to have people
thwacked."
"I may want my foes thwacked, and I will!" replied Patience sturdily.
"Look at the people coming up the road," answered Penuel, thinking it
well to make a diversion. "Why, there's Master Benden and his mistress,
and Mistress Hall, and ever so many more. What's ado, I marvel?"
About a dozen persons comprised the approaching group, which was
brought up by a choice assortment of small boys, among whom
Penuel's brothers, Esdras and Silvanus, were conspicuous. Mr Benden
walked foremost, holding his wife by her wrist, as if he were afraid of
her running away; whilst she went with him as quietly as if she had no
such intention. Almost in a line with them was Tabitha Hall, and she
was pouring out a torrent of words.
"And you'll rue it, Edward Benden, you take my word for it! You
savage barbarian, to deal thus with a decent woman that never shamed
you nor gave you an ill word! Lack-a-day, but I thank all the saints on
my bended knees I'm not your wife! I'd--"
"So do I, Mistress!" was Mr Benden's grim answer.
"I'd make your life a burden to you, if I were! I'd learn you to ill-use a

woman! I'd give it you, you white-livered dotipole [cowardly simpleton]
of a Pharisee! Never since the world began--"
"Go to!" shrieked the boys behind, in great glee. "Scratch him, Tabby,
do!"
Alice never uttered a word, either to her husband or her sister-in-law.
She heard it all as though she heard not. Catching the eye