Thankful Rest | Page 7

nice place, Uncle Josh," he said. "Mamma often told us
about it, but it's prettier than I thought it would be."
"The place'll do, I reckon," admitted Uncle Josh. "But farmin' ain't what
it was. It's a hard job gettin' meat an' drink out o'd now-a-days."
"Mamma told us you were rich," said Tom in surprise. "But you can't
be, because--because--"
"Wal?" said Uncle Josh, with a slow, stupid smile.
"Because your horses are all thin, and you wear these clothes; and Aunt
Hepsy doesn't dress like a lady. Rich people don't live so."
"You're a fool, youngster. Just your mother over again. You don't know,

I suppose, that to save money folks must live cheap, an' not be all
outside show. Ye'll learn better, maybe, afore ye've been long at
Thankful Rest,--Hi, Sally! Whoa, lass."
The thin, wretched-looking horse stood still, thankful to be released
from the heavy waggon; and Tom watched all his uncle's movements
with much interest. He followed him from the yard to the stable, saw
him give the five horses a scanty feed of corn and a pail of water.
"We'll go and hev a bite o' dinner now," he said; then, "Your sister'll be
indoors, I guess?"
Tom nodded, and the two proceeded to the house. Lucy was downstairs
by this time, awkwardly placing knives, forks, and plates on the table,
under Miss Hepsy's directions. A glad smile crept to her eyes at sight of
Tom; it seemed ages since he had gone out. She looked timidly at her
uncle as he shook hands with her, remarking she was a pale-faced thing,
and needed work and exercise to make her spry. Then the company sat
down, and Tom, if Lucy did not, did ample justice to Miss Hepsy's
cookery. It was an unsociable, uncomfortable meal. Aunt and uncle ate,
as they did everything else, as if for a wager, and were finished before
Lucy had touched her meat and potatoes.
"Look spry, child," said her aunt, beginning to clear away almost
immediately. "You'll ha' to learn to eat to some purpose. Time don't last
for ever."
Lucy pushed back her unfinished plateful and rose.
"Not dainty enough for ye, is it not?" was the next remark. "Ye'll eat it
by-and-by maybe."
"I'm not hungry, Aunt Hepsy," she said with quivering lips; and Tom
bit his to keep back angry words surging to them.
"May I go out for a little, Aunt Hepsy?" Lucy asked.
"When you've wiped them dishes you may," replied Aunt Hepsy. "I lost
two good hours goin' to that plaguy depot for you, so the least ye can
do is to help me through.--Josh, find summat for the boy to do; 'tain't
no use hevin' him 'round idle lookin' for mischief."
"Come along to the barn then, What's-yer-name," said Uncle Josh,
picking up his hat and sauntering to the door.--"Don't be too hard on
that little 'un, Hepsy; she don't look over strong."
"Mind yer own business, will ye, Josh Strong," was Miss Hepsy's smart
rejoinder. "I guess I'm able to mind mine."

Under Miss Hepsy's directions, Lucy succeeded in washing up the
dishes without disaster, and was then requested to come to the far
parlour and receive a lesson in sweeping and dusting. Then baking
came on, and with one thing and another Miss Hepsy managed to keep
the child within doors and on her feet till past four o'clock. She was
fainting with fatigue, but would not complain, and Miss Hepsy was too
busy to observe the pallor on her face.
"May I sit down for a minute, please?" she said at last, after bringing a
huge can of flour from the larder. "I am afraid I am going to faint, Aunt
Hepsy;" and she looked like enough it, as she sank wearily on the settle,
and let her white lids droop over her tired eyes.
Miss Hepsy was more than annoyed. "A delicate child above all
humbugs," she muttered, as she sprinkled a few drops of spring water
on the girl's face, and held her smelling-salts to her nostrils.
"Ye'd better go out an' get a mouthful of fresh air, I suppose," she said
ungraciously when Lucy rose at last, with a faint touch of returning
colour in her cheeks.
And Lucy gladly went upstairs for her hat, and crept out into the
beautiful sunshine. The garden gate was locked, but she managed to
turn the key, and went slowly, in a maze of delight, along the trim paths,
past beds of roses, hollyhocks, pansies, and sweet-scented gilly-flowers.
The orchard beyond looked tempting indeed, where the sunbeams
glistened through the bending boughs of apple, plum, and cherry trees,
on the soft carpet of grass beneath. She managed to unfasten the gate
there too, and choosing a wide-spreading apple-tree, from which