Book-bot.com - read famous books online for free

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 40, February, 1861 by Various
page 51 of 282 (18%)
us; an' though I'd knowed it long, layin' there in the dark, neow I see
fur sartain thet there warn't no breath on them stiff lips, an' the
forehead was cold uz the stuns beneath us, an' the eyes wuz fixed an'
glazed in thet las' look uv love an' tortur' an' reproach thet he giv'
me. They say I went distracted; an' I _du_ b'lieve I've be'n cracked
ever sence."

Here Aunt Mimy, who had told her whole story without moving a muscle,
commenced rocking violently back and forth.

"I don't often remember all this," says she, after a little, "but las'
spring it all flushed over me; an' w'en I heerd heow Emerline'd
be'n sick,--I hear a gre't many things ye do' no' nothin' abeout,
children,--I thought I'd tell her, fust time I see her."

"What made you think of it last spring?" asked Stephen.

"The laylocks wuz in bloom," said Miss Mirny,--"the laylocks wuz in
bloom."

Just then mother came down with the apples, and some dip-candles, and
a basket of broken victuals; and Miss Mimy tied her cloak and said she
believed she must be going. And Stephen went and got his hat and coat,
and said,--

"Miss Mimy, wouldn't you like a little company to help you carry your
bundles? Come, Emmie, get your shawl."

So I ran and put on my things, and Stephen and I went home with Aunt
Mimy.
DigitalOcean Referral Badge