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148
The Country of the Pointed Firs
·
Sarah Orne Jewett
105
“Yes,
it's
very
dull
to
me
up
among
those
slow
farms,”
declared
Mrs.
Todd.
“The
snow
troubles
'em
in
winter.
They're
all
besieged
by
winter,
as
you
may
say;
'tis
far
better
by
the
shore
than
up
among
such
places.
I
never
thought
I
should
like
to
live
up
country.”
“Why,
just
see
the
carriages
ahead
of
us
on
the
next
rise!”
exclaimed
Mrs.
Blackett.
“There's
going
to
be
a
great
gathering,
don't
you
believe
there
is,
Almiry?
It
hasn't
seemed
up
to
now
as
if
anybody
was
going
but
us.
An'
'tis
such
a
beautiful
day,
with
yesterday
cool
and
pleasant
to
work
an'
get
ready,
I
shouldn't
wonder
if
everybody
was
there,
even
the
slow
ones
like
Phebe
Ann
Brock.”
Mrs.
Blackett's
eyes
were
bright
with
excitement,
and
even
Mrs.
Todd
showed
remarkable
enthusiasm.
She
hurried
the
horse
and
caught
up
with
the
holiday-makers
ahead.
“There's
all
the
Dep'fords
goin',
six
in
the
wagon,”
she
told
us
joyfully;
“an'
Mis'
Alva
Tilley's
folks
are
now
risin'
the
hill
in
their
new
carry-all.”
Mrs.
Blackett
pulled
at
the
neat
bow
of
her
black
bonnet-strings,
and
tied
them
again
with
careful
precision.
“I
believe
your
bonnet's
on
a
little
bit
sideways,
dear,”
she
advised
Mrs.
Todd
as
if
she
were
a
child;
but
Mrs.
Todd
was
too
much
occupied
to
pay
proper
heed.
We
began
to
feel
a
new
sense
of
gayety
and
of
taking
part
in
the
great
occasion
as
we
joined
the
little
train.
XVIII.
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