" In the
late afternoon, the guest so summoned walked quietly into the silent
house, where Jonas sat by the window, beating one hand incessantly upon
the sill, and staring at the air. His sister, also, had come; she was
frightened, however, and had betaken herself to the bedroom, to sob.
But in walked this little plump, soft-footed woman, with her banded
hair, her benevolent spectacles, and her atmosphere of calm.
"I guess I'll blaze a fire, Jonas," said she. "You step out an' git me
a mite o' kindlin'."
The air of homely living enwrapped him once again, and mechanically,
with the inertia of old habit, he obeyed. They had a "cup o' tea"
together; and then, when the dishes were washed, and the peaceful
twilight began to settle down upon them like a sifting mist, she drew a
little rocking chair to the window where he sat opposite, and spoke.
"Jonas," said she, in that still voice which had been harmonized by the
experiences of life, "arter dark, you jest go up an' bring home them
blue dishes. Mary's got an awful lot o' fun in her, an' if she ain't
laughin' over that, I'm beat. Now, Jonas, you do it! Do you s'pose she
wants them nice blue pieces out there through wind an' weather? She'd
ruther by half see 'em on the parlor cluzzet shelves; an' if you'll
fetch 'em home, I'll scallop some white paper, jest as she liked, an'
we'll set 'em up there.
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