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Old Woman Magoun
by
Lily immediately sat up in bed and smiled at her grandmother. Her eyes were still misty, but the light of awakening was in them.
“Get right up,” said the old woman.”you can wear your new dress if you want to.”
Lily gurgled with pleasure like a baby.”And my new hat?” asked she.
“I don’t care.”
Old Woman Magoun and Lily started for Greenham before Barry Ford, which kept late hours, was fairly awake. It was three miles to Greenham. The old woman said that, since the horse was a little lame, they would walk. It was a beautiful morning, with a diamond radiance of dew over everything. Her grandmother had curled Lily’s hair more punctiliously than usual. The little face peeped like a rose out of two rows of golden spirals. Lily wore her new muslin dress with a pink sash, and her best hat of a fine white straw trimmed with a wreath of rosebuds; also the neatest black open-work stockings and pretty shoes. She even had white cotton gloves. When they set out, the old, heavily stepping woman, in her black gown and cape and bonnet, looked down at the little pink fluttering figure. Her face was full of the tenderest love and
admiration, and yet there was something terrible about it. They crossed the new bridge–a primitive structure built of logs in a slovenly fashion. Old Woman Magoun pointed to a gap.
“Jest see that,” said she.”That’s the way men work.”
“Men ain’t very nice, be they?” said Lily, in her sweet little voice.
“No, they ain’t, take them all together,” replied her grandmother.
“That man that walked to the store with me was nicer than some, I guess,” Lily said, in a wishful fashion. Her grandmother reached down and took the child’s hand in its small cotton glove.”You hurt me, holding my hand so tight,” Lily said presently, in a deprecatory little voice.
The old woman loosened her grasp.”Grandma didn’t know how tight she was holding your hand,” said she.”She wouldn’t hurt you for nothin’, except it was to save your life, or somethin’ like that.”She spoke with an undertone of tremendous meaning which the girl was too childish to grasp. They walked along the country road. Just before they reached Greenham they passed a stone wall overgrown with blackberry-vines, and, an unusual thing in that vicinity, a lusty spread of deadly nightshade full of berries.
“Those berries look good to eat, grandma,” Lily said.
At that instant the old woman’s face became something terrible to see.”You can’t have any now,” she said, and hurried Lily along.
“They look real nice,” said Lily.
When they reached Greenham, Old Woman Magoun took her way straight to the most pretentious house there, the residence of the lawyer, whose name was Mason. Old Woman Magoun bade Lily wait in the yard for a few moments, and Lily ventured to seat herself on a bench beneath an oak-tree; then she watched with some wonder her grandmother enter the lawyer’s office door at the right of the house. Presently the lawyer’s wife came out and spoke to Lily under the tree. She had in her hand a little tray containing a plate of cake, a glass of milk, and an early apple. She spoke very kindly to Lily; she even kissed her, and offered her the tray of refreshments, which Lily accepted gratefully. She sat eating, with Mrs. Mason watching her, when Old Woman Magoun came out of the lawyer’s office with a ghastly face.
“What are you eatin’?” she asked Lily, sharply.”Is that a sour apple?”
“I thought she might be hungry,” said the lawyer’s wife, with loving, melancholy eyes upon the girl.
Lily had almost finished the apple.”It’s real sour, but I like it; it’s real nice, grandma,” she said.