Elsie's Motherhood by Martha Finley
page 30 of 338 (08%)
page 30 of 338 (08%)
|
his loved companionship would double their enjoyment; it always did.
'Twas a pleasant, shady walk, not too long for the older children, and Harold's mammy would carry him when he grew weary. They called at the school-room, witnessed the closing exercises, then visited all the aged and ailing ones, Elsie inquiring tenderly concerning their "miseries," speaking words of sympathy and consolation and giving additional advice; remedies too, and some little delicacies to whet the sickly appetites (these last being contained in a basket, carried by a servant). As they left the last cabin, in the near vicinity of the post where hung the bell, which summoned the men to their meals, and gave notice of the hour for quitting work, they saw the ringer hurrying toward it. "Oh, mamma, we're just in time!" cried Vi, "how nice!" "Yes," said her sister, "mamma always knows how to make things come out right." Every negro family owned a cur, and at the first tap of the bell they always, with a united yelp, rushed for the spot, where they formed a ring round the post, each seated on his haunches and brushing the ground with his tail, with a rapid motion, from side to side, nose in the air, eyes fixed upon the bell, and throat sending out a prolonged howl so long as the ringing continued. The din was deafening, and far from musical, but it was a comical sight, vastly enjoyed by the young Travillas, who saw it only occasionally. Mr. and Mrs. Travilla were walking slowly homeward, the children and Bruno frolicking, jumping, dancing, running on before. After a while the |
|