The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 40, February, 1861 by Various
page 40 of 282 (14%)
page 40 of 282 (14%)
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go till October. You needn't think I'd stayed away from the farm all
that time, while the tender things were opening, the tiny top-heavy beans pushing up, the garden-sarse greening, the little grass-blades two and two,--while all the young creatures were coming forward, the chickens breaking the shell, and the gosling-storm brewing and dealing destruction,--while the strawberries were growing ripe and red up in the high field, and the hay and clover were getting in,--you needn't think I'd stayed away from all that had been pleasant in my life, without many a good heart-ache; and when at last I saw the dear old gray house again, all weather-beaten and homely, standing there with its well-sweep among the elms, I fairly cried. Mother and Lurindy ran out to meet me, when they saw the stage stop, and after we got into the house it seemed if they would never get done kissing me. And mother stirred round and made hot cream-biscuits for tea, and got the best china, and we sat up till nigh midnight, talking, and I had to tell everything John did and said and thought and looked, over and over again. By-and-by I unpacked my trunk, and there was a little parcel in the bottom of it, and I pulled it up. "There, Lurindy," says I, "John told me to tell you to have your wedding-dress ready against he came home,--he's gone mate,--and here it is." And I unrolled the neatest brown silk you ever saw, just fit for Lurindy, she's so pale and genteel, and threw it into her lap. I'd stayed the other month to get enough to buy it. The first thing Lurindy did, by way of thanks, was to burst into tears and declare she never could take it, that she never should marry now; and the more I urged her, the more she cried. But at last she said she'd accept it conditionally,--and the condition was, I should be married |
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