"Betsy Jane," she continued, casting a deprecating glance, first at
the blue sugar bowl and then at her daughter, "what possessed you to
put on this brown sugar, when I told you to get crush? Have some of
the apple sass? It's new--made this morning. Dew have some," she
continued, as Madam Conway shook her head. "Mebby it's better than
it looks. Seem's ef you wan't goin' to eat nothin'. Betsy Jane,
now you're up after the crush, fetch them china sassers for the
cowcumbers. Like enough she'll eat some of them."
But, affecting a headache, Madam Conway declined everything save
the green tea and a Boston cracker, which, at the first mention of
headache, the distressed woman had brought her. Suddenly remembering
Mike, who, having fixed the carriage, was fast asleep on a wheelbarrow
under the woodshed, she exclaimed: "For the land of massy, if I hain't
forgot that young gentleman! Go, William, and call him this minute.
Are you sick at your stomach?" she asked, turning to Madam Conway,
who at the thought of eating with her drunken coachman had uttered
an exclamation of disgust. "Go, Betsy Jane, and fetch the camphire,
quick!"
But Madam Conway did not need the camphor, and so she said, adding
that Mike was better where he was. Mike thought so too, and refused
to come, whereupon the woman insisted that he must. "There was room
enough," she said, "and no kind of sense in Betsy Jane's taking up the
hull side of the table with them rattans.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160