The clematis and honeysuckle swung softly
in the breeze, making graceful shadows, and the maple trees stretched
out long arms and touched each other gently now and then. At the back
of the house on the kitchen steps sat Aunt Sukey, a person of dignity
and authority. Her hands were folded over her white apron and her eyes
rested with satisfaction on the rows of peach preserves that
represented her morning's work.
"Mammy," as the children called her, was a family institution, and
could not be spared, though her last nursling was fast outgrowing her.
No preserves tasted like Sukey's, and no one could, on occasion, make
such rolls.
"Yes," she remarked, continuing her conversation with Mandy, the cook,
who was stepping around inside, "they's _mischevious_ of course, but I
can remember when Mr. Frank and Mr. William was a heap worse."
"Law, Aunt Sukey, I wouldn't want to see 'em if they was any worse
than that Ikey Ford! It looks like the children has been up to twice
as many pranks since he come," replied Mandy.
"He don't take after his pa, then; Mr. Isaac was as nice,
quiet-mannered a boy as you ever see, when he used to go with Mr.
Frank. But pshaw! all that triflin' is soon over. Look at Miss Zelie:
seems like it warn't no time since she was climbin' fences and tearin'
her clothes, till I'd get clean discouraged tryin' to keep her nice.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25