FullReads

“Thank you, ever so much!”

Then she fled up the path, her bundle waving before her. That, at least, looked like spontaneous joy, and the sight of it soothed Lucindy into a temporary resignation; yet she was very much disappointed.

The next afternoon, Tiverton saw a strange and wondrous sight. The Crane boy led Old Buckskin, under an ancient saddle, into Miss Lucindy’s yard, and waited there before her door. The Crane boy had told all his mates, and they had told their fathers and mothers, so that a wild excitement flew through the village like stubble fire, stirring the inhabitants to futile action. “It’s like the ‘clipse,” said one of the squad of children collected at the gate, “only they ain’t no smoked glass.” Some of the grown people “made an errand” for the sake of being in the street, but those who lived near-by simply mounted guard at their doors and windows. The horse had not waited long when Miss Lucindy appeared before the gaze of an eager world. Her face had wakened into a keen excitement.

“Here!” she called to the Crane boy’s brother, who was lingering in the background grinding his toes on the gravel and then lifting them in sudden agony, “you take this kitchen chair and set it down side of him, so’t I can climb up.”

The chair was placed, and Miss Lucindy essayed to climb, but vainly.

“Ann!” she called, “you bring me that little cricket.”

Ann Toby appeared unwillingly, the little cricket in her hand. She was a tall, red-haired woman, who bore the reputation of being willing to be “tore into inch pieces” for Miss Lucindy. Her freckled face burned red with shame and anger.

“For Heaven’s sake, you come back into the house!” she whispered, with tragic meaning. “You jest give it up, an’ I’ll scatter them boys. Sassy little peeps! what are they starin’ round here for, I’d like to know!”

But Lucindy had mounted the cricket with much agility, and seated herself on the horse’s back. Once she slipped off; but the Crane boy had the address to mutter, “Put your leg over the horn!” and, owing to that timely advice, she remained. But he was to experience the gratitude of an unfeeling world; for Ann Toby, in the irritation of one tried beyond endurance, fell upon him and cuffed him soundly. And Mrs. Crane, passing the gate at that moment, did not blame her.

“My! it seems a proper high place to set,” remarked Lucindy, adjusting herself. “Well, I guess I sha’n’t come to no harm. I’ll ride round to your place, boys, when I get through, and leave the horse there.” She trotted out of the yard amid the silence of the crowd.

The spectacle was too awesome to be funny, even to the boys; it seemed to Tiverton strangely like the work of madness. Only one little boy recovered himself sufficiently to ran after her and hold up a switch he had been peeling.

“Here!” he piped up, daringly, “you want a whip.”

Lucindy smiled upon him benignly.

“I never did believe in abusin’ dumb creatur’s,” she said, “but I’m much obliged.” She took the switch and rode on.

Now Mrs. Wilson had heard the rumor too late to admit of any interference on her part, and she was staying indoors, suffering an agony of shame, determined not to countenance the scandalous sight by her presence. But as she sat “hooking-in,” the window was darkened, and involuntarily she lifted her eyes. There was the huge bulk of a horse, and there was Lucindy. The horsewoman’s cheeks were bright red with exercise and joy. She wore a black dress and black mitts. Her little curls were flying; and oh, most unbearable of all! they were surmounted by a bonnet bearing no modest sheaf of wheat, but blossoming brazenly out into lavender roses. The spectacle was too much for Mrs. Wilson. She dropped her hook, and flew to the door.