But the place for me is
Texas. Trees is in constant varder!"
"But," said Ma Fewkes, repeating her speech of three years ago, "it's so
fur, Fewkes!"
"Fur!" he scornfully shouted, just as he had before. "Fur!" this time
letting his voice fall in contempt for the distance, for any one that
spoke of the distance, and for things in general in Iowa. "Why,
Lord-heavens, womern, it hain't more'n fifteen hundred mile!"
"Fewkes," she retorted, drawing her shoulders back almost as far as she
had had them forward a moment before, "I've been drailed around the
country, fifteen hundred miles here, and fifteen hundred miles there,
with old Tom takin' mad fits every little whip-stitch, about as much as
I'm a-going to!"
"I don't," said Rowena, "see why you've got so sot on goin' into your
hole here, an' pullin' the hole in after you. You hook up ol' Tom, pa,
an' me an' you'll go to Texas. I'll start to-morrow morning, pa!"
"I never seen sich a girl," said her mother; "to talk of movin' when
prospects is as good f'r you as they be now!"
"Wal, le's stop jourin' at each other," said Rowena, hastily, as if to
change the subject. "It ain't the way to treat company."
I discovered that Rowena was about to change her situation in the
Blue-grass Manor establishment. She was going into "the Big House" to
work under Mrs. Mobley, the wife of the superintendent, or as we called
him, the overseer.
"Well, that'll be nice," said I.
"I don't want to," she said.
Pages:
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329