Judith of the Plains by Marie Manning
page 96 of 286 (33%)
page 96 of 286 (33%)
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"Me and Clara"âthe stage had this name painted on the sideâ"have been
travelling together nigh onto four year. And while thereâs times that I would prefer a greater degree of reciprocity, these yere silent companions has their advantages. Why, compare Clara to them female blizzardsâthe two Mrs. Daxesâand you see Claraâs good pâints immejit. Yes, miss, the thirst-quenchers are on me if either one of the Dax boys wouldnât be glad to swap, but Iâd have to be a heap more locoed than I am now to consent to the transaction." At sunset the interminable monotony of the wilderness was broken by a house of curious architecture, the like of which the tired young traveller had never seen before, and whose singular candor of design made her doubt the evidence of her own thoroughly exhausted faculties. The house seemed to consist of a series of rooms thrown, or rather blown, together by some force of nature rather than by formal design of builder or carpenter. The original log-cabin of this composite dwelling looked better built, more finished, neater of aspect than those they had previously stopped at in crossing the Desert. Springing from the main building, like claws from a crustacean, were a series of rooms minus either side walls or flooring. Indeed, they might easily have passed for porches of more than usually commodious size had it not been for the beds, bureaus, chairs, stove with attendant pots, kettles, and supper in the course of preparation. Seen from any vantage-point in the surrounding country, the effect was that of an interior on the stageâthe background of some homely drama where pioneer life was being realistically depicted. The _dramatis persona_ who occupied the centre of the stage when Mary Carmichael drove up was an elderly woman in a rocking-chair. She was dressed in a faded pink calico gown, limp and bedraggled, whose color brought out the parchment-like hue and texture of her skin in merciless contrast. Perhaps because she still harbored illusions about the perishable quality of her complexion, which gave every |
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