Poor Betsy stood curtesying and talking to the rock, till Annie walked
some distance from her, when gathering her blanket a little more
closely about her, and walking rapidly forward, soon overtook her,
and looking earnestly in her face, with a low, gurgling laugh, she
continued,
"Poor little Hannah Pease, poor little Hannah Pease--perhaps, if you
had married him, you wouldn't been any better off. This face was a
beautiful face once; it was the handsomest face that ever was seen;
look at it now--how would you find it out? Old Ben Thornton, old Ben
Thornton," and fetching another laugh, she sprang over the fence, and
was soon lost from sight among the trees.
Annie soon reached her uncle's, where she met with a cordial
reception, and she felt that she had learned a salutary lesson from
the poor lunatic. The next afternoon, she and her cousin Edith
wandered forth into an adjoining field, to enjoy a stroll beneath the
cloudless sky, and inhale the sweet breath of autumn, which was borne
upon the gentle gales. Nature was at rest. No stormy wind ruffled her
bosom or agitated its surface. Her rich store of fruits lay spread
out in great abundance, and the whitened fields stood ready for the
harvest.
They conversed upon indifferent subjects till they came to a little
silver stream, threading its silent way through the silken grass. They
crossed and seating themselves beneath the shade of a thrifty apple
tree, picked up some of the delicious fruit that lay scattered in rich
profusion around them.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80