Mary E. Wilkins

“ He simply went along through life looking at the snow or the flowers which happened to be in sight, and thinking nothing about the fire or the gold underneath them.
That night they used their heap of hay for a bed; they slept soundly on it, too. The next morning they ate more sweet apples and crackers; then David started for Bassets, a little town three miles distant, in search of work. A man in Waterbury had told him that there was a tub factory in Bassets, and he thought of it now as a forlorn hope. ”

“ Passers-by might look directly in on the little table set between the windows for tea. The six-o'clock whistle had blown, and the men and girls were coming home from the shops. They straggled along, the men in their calico shirt-sleeves, the girls in their soiled dresses, turning into this yard and that with an air of content.
Araminta had worked in the shop, too, before she was married. Afterwards, David would not let her. "His wife might do his washing and ironing and cooking," he said, "but she should not work for other people as long as he had his two hands." ”

“ They ate their dinner and supper from their basket by the roadside, and slept that night in an isolated barn, on a pile of fresh hay.
The next morning they were a little tired and stiff, but they were too young and healthy to mind it much, and they rose and went on.
That day they stopped in a village on their way and spent, cautiously, a portion of their ten dollars for food—bread and crackers. They could pick plenty of blackberries to eat with them along the road.
So they kept on. When they reached White River David could find no work there; the shops were full. ”

“ Minty kept thinking every day that the next day she must call on some one for assistance, have a doctor. But when the next day came David would think that he felt a little better, perhaps, and she would put it off. She had a fierce dislike of asking for charity. ”

“ She never looked out of a window without due caution. Her greatest terror was that she should be caught stealing the milk. She used so much art in milking from one cow and another, that she hardly thought the diminution in quantity would betray her, for a while anyway. ”

“ I'm jest goin' to step out of the room a second. I'll leave the door open."
She ran out of the house to the barn; his cry followed her. There stood the old sulky which she and David had laughed at on the night of their arrival. She took hold of the shafts and pulled it out through the wide doors into the green yard. It was light, and she did it easily enough. She was very strong.
"I can do it," she said, with a nod of her head.
She dragged the sulky along into the road and stopped close to the front door.
Then she ran in, laughing. "Come, Davy, darlin', you're goin' to ride! ”

“ They were young and strong, and walking was a pleasure. It was enough sight better than being cooped up in the shop, David said, looking ahead between the green, dewy boughs. And Minty said she was glad not to be in the house washing dishes such a splendid morning.
She even began to sing as they went along, a Sunday- school tune. The Saundersville folk sang that kind of music principally. Mr. Saunders kept a little church and Sunday-school running vigorously in his domain. David would not sing, but he listened to his wife sympathizingly. ”

“ It was getting late in the afternoon.
"We've got to find some place or other to stay to-night," said David, moodily.
Minty said nothing. She sat staring straight ahead. There were dark hollows under her eyes.
They rose wearily after a little while, and kept on. They hoped to find a barn somewhere which would shelter them for the night. But they walked some miles farther along the country road without finding any kind of a building by the way.
At last, about sunset, they reached a cleared space and a house on the east side of the road. No one lived in it ”

“ Since then she had shifted as best she could. She had lived around in various families, partly dependent, partly working her way, until she was eighteen. Then she came to Saundersville to work in the mills, and there she met David May, and was married to him.
Araminta had not wholly escaped the suspicions liable to attach themselves to a handsome unprotected girl in a humble position. People had said she was a pretty wild kind of a girl, with a meaning look, before she was married.
She had watched for David anxiously to-night She had a little extra tea—a pie and some hot biscuits. ”

“ She turned around and looked at him. "David May, you jest keep still. You don't weigh no more'n a feather; it ain't nothin'. I'm only goin' to take you up to Bassets to see the doctor."
"Minty, stop!"
"Look here, Davy—if you don't lay back an' keep still, I'll—leave you." ”

“ They've got some things they left in the place they used to live in, an' they're goin' to send for 'em. He keeps frettin' 'cause she ain't got any more clothes here. He seems to think a sight on her; wants her to have everythin' and be dressed up. They seem jest as happy as the day is long, now. ”