Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 7, No. 40, February, 1861 | Page 9

wouldn't have you
think, though our name was Ruggles, too. Aunt Mimy used to sell

herbs, and she rose from that to taking care of the sick, and so on, till
once Dr. Sprague having proved that death came through her ignorance,
she had to abandon some branches of her art; and she was generally
roaming round the neighborhood, seeking whom she could devour in
the others. And so she came into our house just at dinner-time, and
mother asked her to sit by, and then mentioned Cousin Stephen, and
she went up to see him, and so it was.
Now it can't be pleasant for any family to have such a thing turn up,
especially if there's a pretty girl in it; and I suppose I was as pretty as
the general run, at that time,--perhaps Cousin Stephen thought a trifle
prettier; pink cheeks, blue eyes, and hair the color and shine of a
chestnut when it bursts the burr, can't be had without one 's rather
pleasant-looking; and then I'm very good-natured and quick-tempered,
and I've got a voice for singing, and I sing in the choir, and a'n't afraid
to open my mouth. I don't look much like Lurindy, to be sure; but then
Lurindy's an old maid,--as much as twenty-five,--and don't go to
singing-school.--At least, these thoughts ran through my head as I
watched Aunt Mimy down the hill.--Lurindy a'n't so very pretty, I
continued to think,--but she's so very good, it makes up. At
sewing-circle and quilting and frolics, I'm as good as any; but somehow
I'm never any 'count at home; that's because Lurindy is by, at home.
Well, Lurindy has a little box in her drawer, and there's a letter in it,
and an old geranium-leaf, and a piece of black silk ribbon that looks too
broad for anything but a sailor's necktie, and a shell. I don't know what
she wants to keep such old stuff for, I'm sure.
We're none so rich,--I suppose I may as well tell the truth, that we're
nearly as poor as poor can be. We've got the farm, but it's such a small
one that mother and I can carry it on ourselves, with now and then a
day's help or a bee,--but a bee's about as broad as it is long,--and we
raise just enough to help the year out, but don't sell. We've got a cow
and the filly and some sheep; and mother shears and cards, and Lurindy
spins,--I can't spin, it makes my head swim,--and I knit, knit socks and
sell them. Sometimes I have needles almost as big as a pipe-stem, and
choose the coarse, uneven yarn of the thrums, and then the work goes
off like machinery. Why, I can knit two pair, and sometimes three, a
day, and get just as much for them as I do for the nice ones,--they're
warm. But when I want to knit well, as I did the day Aunt Mimy was in,

I take my best blue needles and my fine white yarn from the long wool,
and it takes me from daybreak till sundown to knit one pair. I don't
know why Aunt Jemimy should have said what she did about my socks;
I'm sure Stephen hadn't been any nearer them than he had to the
cabbage-bag Lurindy was netting, and there wasn't such a nice knitter
in town as I, everybody will tell you. She always did seem to take
particular pleasure in hectoring and badgering me to death.
Well, I wasn't going to be put down by Aunt Mimy, so I made the
needles fly while mother was gone for the doctor. By-and-by I heard a
knock up in Stephen's room,--I suppose he wanted something,--but
Lurindy didn't hear it, and I didn't so much want to go, so I sat still and
began to count out loud the stitches to my narrowings. By-and-by he
knocked again.
"Lurindy," says I, "a'n't that Steve a-knocking?"
"Yes," says she,--"why don't you go?"--for I had been tending him a
good deal that day.
"Well," says I, "there's a number of reasons; one is, I'm just binding off
my heel."
Lurindy looked at me a minute, then all at once she smiled.
"Well, Emmy," says she, "if you like a smooth skin more than a smooth
conscience, you're welcome,"--and went up-stairs herself.
I suppose I had ought to 'a' gone, and I suppose I'd ought to wanted to
have gone, but somehow it wasn't so much fear as that I didn't want to
see Stephen himself now. So Lurindy stayed up chamber, and was there
when mother and the doctor come. And the doctor said he feared Aunt
Mimy was right, and nobody but mother and Lurindy must go near
Stephen, (you see, he found Lurindy there,)