FullReads

What the dime really bought was a glass of jelly wrapped in a two-day-old newspaper. But to go back:

We were to start from Tish’s at dawn on Tuesday morning. Modestine’s former owner had agreed to bring him at that hour to the alley behind Tish’s apartment. On Monday Aggie and I sent over what we felt we could not get along without, and about five we both arrived.

Tish was sitting on the floor, with luggage scattered all round her and heaped on the chairs and bed.

She looked up witheringly when we entered.

“You forgot your opera cloak, Lizzie,” she said, “and Aggie has only sent five pairs of shoes!”

“I’ve got to have shoes,” Aggie protested.

“If you’ve got to have five pairs of shoes, six white petticoats, summer underwear, intermediates and flannels, a bathrobe, six bath towels and a sunshade, not to mention other things, you want an elephant, not a donkey.”

“Why do we have a donkey?” I asked. “Why don’t we have a horse and buggy, and go like Christians?”

“Because you and Aggie wouldn’t walk if we did,” snapped Tish. “I know you both. You’d have rheumatism or a corn and you’d take your walking trip sitting. Besides, we may not always keep to the roads. I’d like to go up into the mountains.”

Well, Tish was disagreeable, but right. As it turned out the donkey, being small, could only carry the sleeping-bags, our portable stove and the provisions. We each were obliged to pack a suitcase and carry that.

We started at dawn the next day. Hannah came down to the alley and didn’t think much of Modestine. By the time he was loaded a small crowd had gathered, and when we finally started off, Tish ahead with Modestine’s bridle over her arm and Aggie and I behind with our suitcases, a sort of cheer went up. It was, however, an orderly leave-taking, perhaps owing to the fact that Tish’s rifle was packed in full view on Modestine’s back.

I have a great admiration for Tish. She does not fear the pointing finger of scorn. She took the most direct route out of town, and by the time we had reached the outskirts we had a string of small boys behind us like the tail of a kite. When we reached the cemetery and sat down to rest they formed a circle round us and stared at us.

Tish looked at her watch. We had been an hour and twenty minutes going two miles!

II

We were terribly thirsty, but none of us cared to drink from the cemetery well; in fact, the question of water bothered us all that day. It was very warm, and after we left the suburban trolley-line, where motormen stopped the cars to look at us and people crowded to the porches to stare at us, the water question grew serious. Tish had studied sanitation, and at every farm we came to the well was improperly located. Generally it was immediately below the pigsty.

Luckily we had brought along some blackberry cordial, and we took a sip of that now and then. But the suitcases were heavy, and at eleven o’clock Aggie said the cordial had gone to her head and she could go no farther. Tish was furious.

“I told you how it would be!” she said. “For about forty years you haven’t used your legs except to put shoes and stockings on. Of course they won’t carry you.”

“It isn’t my feet, it’s my head,” Aggie sniffed. “If I had some water I’d b-be all right. If you’re going to examine everything you drink with a microscope you might as well have stayed at home.”

“I’d have died before I drank out of that last well,” snapped Tish. “One could tell by looking at that woman that there are dead rats and things in the water.”

“You are not so particular at home,” Aggie asserted. “You use vinegar, don’t you? And I’m sure it’s full of wrigglers. You can see them when you hold the cruet to the light.”