"How they've grown!" I said.
I stopped at the corner of the barn for a moment. From within I
heard the rattling of milk in a pail (a fine sound), and heard a
man's voice saying:
"Whoa, there! Stiddy now!"
"Dick's milking," I said.
So I stepped in at the doorway.
"Lord, Mr. Grayson!" exclaimed Dick, rising instantly and
clasping my hand like a long-lost brother.
"I'm glad to see you!"
"I'm glad to see YOU!"
The warm smell of the new milk, the pleasant sound of animals
stepping about in the stable, the old mare reaching her long head
over the stanchion to welcome me, and nipping at my fingers when
I rubbed her nose--
And there was the old house with the late sun upon it, the vines
hanging green over the porch, Harriet's trim flower bed--I crept
along quietly to the corner. The kitchen door stood open.
"Well, Harriet!" I said, stepping inside.
"Mercy! David!"
I have rarely known Harriet to be in quite such a reckless mood.
She kept thinking of a new kind of sauce or jam for supper (I
think there were seven, or were there twelve? on the table before
I got through). And there was a new rhubarb pie such as only
Harriet can make, just brown enough on top, and not too brown,
with just the right sort of hills and hummocks in the crust, and
here and there little sugary bubbles where a suggestion of the
goodness came through--such a pie--! and such an appetite to go
with it!
"Harriet," I said, "you're spoiling me.
Pages:
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251