Children's Book Classics - Kate Douglas Wiggin Edition: 11 Novels & 120+ Short Stories for Children. Kate Douglas Wiggin

deftly with her pastry knife, and then, at last, placing the human stamp upon it by sticking in two black currants for eyes. Just call to mind the face of that sugar gingerbread lady and you will have an exact portrait of Huldah’s mother,—Mis’ Peter Meserve, she was generally called, there being several others.

      “How’d you like Huldy’s dress, Delia?” she asked, snapping the elastic in her black jet bracelets after an irritating fashion she had.

      “I thought it was about the handsomest of any,” answered Delia; “and her composition was first rate. It was the only real amusin’ one there was, and she read it so loud and clear we didn’t miss any of it; most o’ the girls spoke as if they had hasty pudtin’ in their mouths.”

      “That was the composition she wrote for Adam Ladd’s prize,” explained Mrs. Meserve, “and they do say she’d ‘a’ come out first, ‘stead o’ fourth, if her subject had been dif’rent. There was three ministers and three deacons on the committee, and it was only natural they should choose a serious piece; hers was too lively to suit ‘em.”

      Huldah’s inspiring theme had been Boys, and she certainly had a fund of knowledge and experience that fitted her to write most intelligently upon it. It was vastly popular with the audience, who enjoyed the rather cheap jokes and allusions with which it coruscated; but judged from a purely literary standpoint, it left much to be desired.

      “Rebecca’s piece wan’t read out loud, but the one that took the boy’s prize was; why was that?” asked Mrs. Robinson.

      “Because she wan’t graduatin’,” explained Mrs. Cobb, “and couldn’t take part in the exercises; it’ll be printed, with Herbert Dunn’s, in the school paper.”

      “I’m glad o’ that, for I’ll never believe it was better ‘n Huldy’s till I read it with my own eyes; it seems as if the prize ought to ‘a’ gone to one of the seniors.”

      “Well, no, Marthy, not if Ladd offered it to any of the two upper classes that wanted to try for it,” argued Mrs. Robinson. “They say they asked him to give out the prizes, and he refused, up and down. It seems odd, his bein’ so rich and travelin’ about all over the country, that he was too modest to git up on that platform.”

      “My Huldy could ‘a’ done it, and not winked an eyelash,” observed Mrs. Meserve complacently; a remark which there seemed no disposition on the part of any of the company to controvert.

      “It was complete, though, the governor happening to be there to see his niece graduate,” said Delia Weeks. “Land! he looked elegant! They say he’s only six feet, but he might ‘a’ been sixteen, and he certainly did make a fine speech.”

      “Did you notice Rebecca, how white she was, and how she trembled when she and Herbert Dunn stood there while the governor was praisin’ ‘em? He’d read her composition, too, for he wrote the Sawyer girls a letter about it.” This remark was from the sympathetic Mrs. Cobb.

      “I thought ‘t was kind o’ foolish, his makin’ so much of her when it wan’t her graduation,” objected Mrs. Meserve; “layin’ his hand on her head ‘n’ all that, as if he was a Pope pronouncin’ benediction. But there! I’m glad the prize come to Riverboro ‘t any rate, and a han’somer one never was give out from the Wareham platform. I guess there ain’t no end to Adam Ladd’s money. The fifty dollars would ‘a’ been good enough, but he must needs go and put it into those elegant purses.”

      “I set so fur back I couldn’t see ‘em fairly,” complained Delia, “and now Rebecca has taken hers home to show her mother.”

      “It was kind of a gold net bag with a chain,” said Mrs. Perkins, “and there was five ten-dollar gold pieces in it. Herbert Dunn’s was put in a fine leather wallet.”

      “How long is Rebecca goin’ to stay at the farm?” asked Delia.

      “Till they get over Hannah’s bein’ married, and get the house to runnin’ without her,” answered Mrs. Perkins. “It seems as if Hannah might ‘a’ waited a little longer. Aurelia was set against her goin’ away while Rebecca was at school, but she’s obstinate as a mule, Hannah is, and she just took her own way in spite of her mother. She’s been doin’ her sewin’ for a year; the awfullest coarse cotton cloth she had, but she’s nearly blinded herself with fine stitchin’ and rufflin’ and tuckin’. Did you hear about the quilt she made? It’s white, and has a big bunch o’ grapes in the centre, quilted by a thimble top. Then there’s a row of circle-borderin’ round the grapes, and she done them the size of a spool. The next border was done with a sherry glass, and the last with a port glass, an’ all outside o’ that was solid stitchin’ done in straight rows; she’s goin’ to exhibit it at the county fair.”

      “She’d better ‘a’ been takin’ in sewin’ and earnin’ money, ‘stead o’ blindin’ her eyes on such foolishness as quilted counterpanes,” said Mrs. Cobb. “The next thing you know that mortgage will be foreclosed on Mis’ Randall, and she and the children won’t have a roof over their heads.”

      “Don’t they say there’s a good chance of the railroad goin’ through her place?” asked Mrs. Robinson. “If it does, she’ll git as much as the farm is worth and more. Adam Ladd ‘s one of the stockholders, and everything is a success he takes holt of. They’re fightin’ it in Augusty, but I’d back Ladd agin any o’ them legislaters if he thought he was in the right.”

      “Rebecca’ll have some new clothes now,” said Delia, “and the land knows she needs ‘em. Seems to me the Sawyer girls are gittin’ turrible near!”

      “Rebecca won’t have any new clothes out o’ the prize money,” remarked Mrs. Perkins, “for she sent it away the next day to pay the interest on that mortgage.”

      “Poor little girl!” exclaimed Delia Weeks.

      “She might as well help along her folks as spend it on foolishness,” affirmed Mrs. Robinson. “I think she was mighty lucky to git it to pay the interest with, but she’s probably like all the Randalls; it was easy come, easy go, with them.”

      “That’s more than could be said of the Sawyer stock,” retorted Mrs. Perkins; “seems like they enjoyed savin’ more’n anything in the world, and it’s gainin’ on Mirandy sence her shock.”

      “I don’t believe it was a shock; it stands to reason she’d never ‘a’ got up after it and been so smart as she is now; we had three o’ the worst shocks in our family that there ever was on this river, and I know every symptom of ‘em better’n the doctors.” And Mrs. Peter Meserve shook her head wisely.

      “Mirandy ‘s smart enough,” said Mrs. Cobb, “but you notice she stays right to home, and she’s more close-mouthed than ever she was; never took a mite o’ pride in the prize, as I could see, though it pretty nigh drove Jeremiah out o’ his senses. I thought I should ‘a’ died o’ shame when he cried ‘Hooray!’ and swung his straw hat when the governor shook hands with Rebecca. It’s lucky he couldn’t get fur into the church and had to stand back by the door, for as it was, he made a spectacle of himself. My suspicion is”—and here every lady stopped eating and sat up straight—“that the Sawyer girls have lost money. They don’t know a thing about business ‘n’ never did, and Mirandy’s too secretive and contrairy to ask advice.”

      “The most o’ what they’ve got is in gov’ment bonds, I always heard, and you can’t lose money on them. Jane had the timber land left her, an’ Mirandy had the brick house. She probably took it awful hard that Rebecca’s fifty dollars had to be swallowed up in a mortgage, ‘stead of goin’ towards school expenses. The more I think of it, the more I think Adam Ladd intended Rebecca should have that prize when he gave it.” The mind of Huldah’s mother ran towards the idea that her daughter’s rights had been assailed.

      “Land, Marthy, what foolishness you talk!” exclaimed Mrs. Perkins; “you don’t suppose he could tell what composition the committee was going to choose; and why should