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PAGE 4

Aunt Kipp
by [?]

“I’ve heard of him, and that’s enough for me. I’ve a deal of penetration in judging character, and I tell you Van Bahr Lamb is a fool.”

The amiable old lady thought this would rouse Polly, against whom her anger still burned hotly. But Polly also possessed penetration; and, well knowing that contradiction would delight Aunt Kipp, she completely took the wind out of her sails, by coolly remarking,–

“I like fools.”

“Bless my heart! what does the girl mean?” ejaculated Aunt Kipp.

“Just what I say. If Van is a fool, I prefer simpletons to wiseacres. I know he is shy and awkward, and does absurd things now and then. But I also know that he has the kindest heart that ever was; is unselfish, faithful and loving; that he took good care of his old parents till they died, and never thought of himself while they needed him. He loves me dearly; will wait for me a dozen years, if I say so, and work all his days to make me happy. He’s a help and comfort to mother, a good friend to Toady, and I love and respect and am proud of him, though you do say he is a fool,” cried Polly heartily.

“And you insist on marrying him?” demanded Aunt Kipp.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I wish a carriage immediately,” was the somewhat irrelevant reply.

“Why, aunt, you don’t mean to go so soon?” cried Mrs. Snow, with a reproachful glance at the rebellious Polly.

“Far from it. I wish to see Judge Banks about altering my will,” was the awful answer.

Polly’s face fell; her mother gave a despairing sigh; Toady, who had hovered about the door, uttered a suppressed whistle of dismay; and Mrs. Kipp looked about her with vengeful satisfaction.

“Get the big carryall and old Bob, so the boy can drive, and all of you come; the trip will do you good.”

It was like Aunt Kipp to invite her poor relations to go and “nip their own noses off,” as she elegantly expressed it. It was a party of pleasure that just suited her, for all the fun was on her side. She grew affable at once, was quite pressing in her invitation, regretted that Sophy was too busy to go, praised Polly’s hat; and professed herself quite satisfied with “that dear boy” for a driver. The “dear boy” distorted his young countenance frightfully behind her back, but found a balm for every wound in the delight of being commander of the expedition.

The big carryall appeared, and, with much creaking and swaying Mrs. Kipp was got into the back seat, where the big bonnet gloomed like a thunder-cloud. Polly, in a high state of indignation, which only made her look ten times prettier, sat in front with Toady, who was a sight to see as he drove off with his short legs planted against the boot, his elbows squared, and the big whip scientifically cracking now and then. Away they went, leaving poor Mrs. Snow to bewail herself dismally after she had smiled and nodded them out of sight.

“Don’t go over any bridges or railroad crossings or by any saw-mills,” said the old lady, as if the town could be suddenly remodelled to suit her taste.

“Yes’m,” returned Toady, with a crack which would have done honor to a French postilion.

It was a fine day, and the young people would have enjoyed the ride in spite of the breakers ahead, if Aunt Kipp hadn’t entertained the girl with a glowing account of the splendors of her own wedding, and aggravated the boy by frequent pokes and directions in the art of driving, of which she was of course, profoundly ignorant. Polly couldn’t restrain a tear or two, in thinking of her own poor little prospects, and Toady was goaded to desperation.

“I’ll give her a regular shaking up; it’ll make her hold her tongue and do her good,” he said to himself, as a stony hill sloped temptingly before him.