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Wiggin, Kate Douglas Smith, 1856-1923

"Timothy's Quest A Story for Anybody, Young or Old, Who Cares to Read It"


Heaps of yellow pumpkins and squashes lay in the corners of the fields;
cornstalks bowed their heads beneath the weight of ripened ears; beans
threatened to burst through their yellow pods; the sound of the
threshing machine was heard in the land; and the "hull univarse wanted
to be waited on to once," according to Jabe Slocum; for, as he
affirmed, "Yer couldn't ketch up with your work nohow, for if yer set up
nights 'n' worked Sundays, the craps 'd ripen 'n' go to seed on yer
'fore yer could git 'em harvested!"
And if there was peace and plenty without there was quite as much within
doors.
"I can't hardly tell what's the matter with me these days," said
Samantha Ann to Miss Vilda, as they sat peeling and slicing apples for
drying. "My heart has felt like a stun these last years, and now all to
once it's so soft I'm ashamed of it. Seems to me there never was such a
summer! The hay never smelt so sweet, the birds never sang so well, the
currants never jelled so hard! Why I can't kick the cat, though she's
more everlastin'ly under foot 'n ever, 'n' pretty soon I sha'n't even
have sprawl enough to jaw Jabe Slocum. I b'lieve it's nothin' in the
world but them children! They keep a runnin' after me, 'n' it's dear
Samanthy here, 'n' dear Samanthy there, jest as if I warn't a hombly old
maid; 'n' they take holt o' my hands on both sides o' me, 'n' won't stir
a step tell I go to see the chickens with 'em, 'n' the pig, 'n' one
thing 'n' 'nother, 'n' clappin' their hands when I make 'em gingerbread
men! And that reminds me, I see the school-teacher goin' down along this
mornin', 'n' I run out to see how Timothy was gittin' along in his
studies.


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