Volume I Part 67 (1/2)

”Ah, but, fair, you know, I mean ? we speak ? in that sense ?

Mrs. Dougla.s.s, here is by far the most elegant offering that your hands will have the honour of receiving this day.”

”I hope so,” said Mrs. Dougla.s.s, ”or there wont be much to eat for the minister. Did you never take notice how elegant things somehow made folks grow poor?”

”I guess he'd as lieve see something a little substantial,”

said aunt Syra.

”Well, now,” said the doctor, ”here is Miss Ringgan, who is unquestionably ? a ?elegant! ? and I am sure n.o.body will say that she ? looks poor.”

In one sense, surely not! There could not be two opinions. But with all the fairness of health, and the flush which two or three feelings had brought to her cheeks, there was a look as if the workings of the mind had refined away a little of the strength of the physical frame, and as if growing poor in Mrs.

Dougla.s.s's sense ? that is, thin, might easily be the next step.

”What's your uncle going to give us, Fleda?” said aunt Syra.

But Fleda was saved replying; for Mrs. Dougla.s.s, who, if she was sharp, could be good-natured too, and had watched to see how Fleda took the double fire upon elegance and poverty, could bear no more trial of that sweet gentle face. Without giving her time to answer, she carried her off to see the things already stored in the closet, bidding the doctor, over her shoulder, ”be off after his goods, whether he had got 'em or no.”

There was certainly a promising beginning made for the future minister's comfort. One shelf was already completely stocked with pies, and another showed a quant.i.ty of cake, and biscuits enough to last a good-sized family for several meals.

”That is always the way,” said Mrs. Dougla.s.s; ”it's the strangest thing that folks has no sense! Now, one half o' them pies 'll be dried up afore they can eat the rest; 't aint much loss, for Mis' Prin sent 'em down, and if they are worth anything, it's the first time anything ever come out of her house that was. Now look at them biscuit!”

”How many are coming to eat them?” said Fleda.

”How?”

”How large a family has the minister?”

”He ha'n't a bit of a family! He ain't married.”

”Not!”

At the grave way in which Mrs. Dougla.s.s faced round upon her and answered, and at the idea of a single mouth devoted to all that closetful Fleda's gravity gave place to most uncontrollable merriment.

”No,” said Mrs. Dougla.s.s, with a curious twist of her mouth, but commanding herself, ? ”he aint, to be sure, not yet. He ha'n't any family but himself and some sort of a housekeeper, I suppose; they'll divide the house between 'em.”

”And the biscuits, I hope,” said Fleda. ”But what will he do with all the other things, Mrs. Dougla.s.s?”

”Sell 'em if he don't want 'em,” said Mrs. Dougla.s.s, quizzically. ”Shut up, Fleda, I forget who sent them biscuit ?

somebody that calculated to make a show for a little, I reckon. My sakes! I believe it was Mis' Springer herself! she didn't hear me though,” said Mrs. Dougla.s.s, peeping out of the half-open door. ”It's a good thing the world aint all alike; there's Mis' Plumfield ? stop now, and I'll tell you all she sent; that big jar of lard, there's as good as eighteen or twenty pound ? and that basket of eggs, I don't know how many there is ? and that cheese, a real fine one, I'll be bound, she wouldn't pick out the worst in her dairy; and Seth fetched down a hundred weight of corn meal, and another of rye flour; now, that's what I call doing things something like; if everybody else would keep up their end as well as they keep up their'n, the world wouldn't be quite so one-sided as it is. I never see the time yet when I couldn't tell where to find Mis'

Plumfield.”

”No, nor anybody else,” said Fleda, looking happy.

”There's Mis' Silbert couldn't find nothing better to send than a kag of soap,” Mrs. Dougla.s.s went on, seeming very much amused; ”I _was_ beat when I saw that walk in! I should think she'd feel streaked to come here by and by, and see it a- standing between Mis' Plumfield's lard and Mis' Clavering's pork ? that's a handsome kag of pork, aint it? What's that man done with your strawberries? I'll put 'em up here, afore somebody takes a notion to 'em. I'll let the minister know who he's got to thank for 'em,” said she, winking at Fleda.

”Where's Dr. Quackenboss?”

”Coming, Ma'am!” sounded from the hall, and forthwith, at the open door, entered the doctor's head, simultaneously with a large cheese, which he was rolling before him, the rest of the doctor's person being thrown into the background in consequence ? a curious natural representation of a wheelbarrow, the wheel being the only artificial part.

”Oh! that's you, doctor, is it?” said Mrs. Dougla.s.s.

”This is me, Ma'am,” said the doctor, rolling up to the closet door; ”this has the honour to be ? a ? myself, ? bringing my service to the feet of Miss Ringgan.”