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Read Ebook: The Feather Bed by Graves Robert
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Ebook has 65 lines and 2692 words, and 2 pages
"'Take care! You'll drop sperm on the rug, tipping that candlestick so!'" 68
"'Then I'm glad, glad that you are to have Pepita'" 173
"She so gently manipulated the swollen ankle and bound it with the lotions" 262
"He began to gather up the coins" 334
REELS AND SPINDLES.
A BYWAY OF THE ARDSLEY.
The white burro had a will of her own. So, distinctly, had her mistress. As had often happened, these two wills conflicted.
For the pair had come to a point where three ways met. Pepita wanted to ascend the hill, by a path she knew, to stable and supper. Amy wished to follow a descending road, which she did not know, into the depths of the forest. Neither inclined toward the safe middle course, straight onward through the village, now picturesque in the coloring of a late September day.
"No, Pepita. You must obey me. If I'm not firm this time, you'll act worse the next. To the right, amiable beastie!"
Both firmness and sarcasm were wasted. The burro rigidly planted her forefeet in the dust and sorrowfully dropped her head.
Amy tugged at the bridle.
The "Californian" budged not, but posed, an image of dejection. The happiness of life had departed; the tale of her woe seemed pictured in every hair of her thickly coated body; she was a broken-hearted donkey.
Amy Kaye was neither broken-hearted nor broken-spirited, and she was wholly comfortable. Her saddle was soft and fitted well. The air was delightful. She pulled a book from her pocket and began to read. In five minutes she was so absorbed that she had forgotten Pepita's little mannerisms.
After a while the "Californian" moved her head just enough to gain a corner-wise glimpse of a calm and unresponsive face beneath a scarlet Tam; and evidently realizing that she had become a mere support to the maid who owned her, uttered her protest.
"Bra-a-ay! Ah-umph! Ah-umph--umph--mph--ph--h!"
Amy read on.
Pepita changed her tactics. She began to double herself together in a fashion disconcerting to most riders; whereupon Amy simply drew her own limbs up out of harm's way and waited for the burro's anatomy to settle itself in a heap on the ground.
"All right, honey."
Then she resumed her book, and the beast her meditations. Thus they remained until the rumble of an approaching wagon caused the now submissive animal to rise and move aside out of the road.
Again Amy tested the bridle, and found that she might now ride whither she pleased.
"Is it so, beloved? Well, then, that's right; and when you do right because I make you, it is one lump of sugar. Open your mouth. Here. But, Pepita, when you do right without compulsion, there are always two lumps. Into the forest--go!"
Pepita went. Suddenly, swiftly, and so recklessly that Amy nearly slid over her head.
"Very well! What suits you suits me. I'm as good a sticker-on as you are a shaker-off. Besides, a word in your ear. It would be quite the proper, story-book sort of thing for you to try and break my neck, as a punishment, since I'm almost running away."
Though she had always lived within a few miles of the spot the girl had never before visited it. That she did so now, without knowledge of anybody at home, gave her a sense of daring, almost of danger, as new as it was fascinating. True, she had not been forbidden, simply because nobody had thought of her wandering so far afield; yet the habit of her life had been such as to make anything out of the common seem strange, even wrong.
"However, since I'm here, I'll see what there is to see and tell them all about it afterward--that is, if they will care to hear," she ended her remark to the burro with a sigh, and for a bit forgot her surroundings. Then she rallied, and with the spirit of an explorer, peered curiously into all the delightful nooks and corners which presented; not observing that the road grew steadily more steep and rough, nor that Pepita's feet slipped and stumbled, warningly, among the loose stones, which were so hidden by fallen leaves that Amy could not see them. Along the sides, seasoning at convenient intervals, were rows of felled timber, gay with a summer's growth of woodbine and clematis, now ripened to scarlet and silvery white.
Amy was an artist's daughter. At every turn her trained eye saw wonderful "bits" of pictures, and she exclaimed to Pepita:--
"If father were only here! See that great rock with its gray-green lichens and its trailing crimson tendrils! Just that on a tiny canvas, say six by eight or, even, eight by twelve, how it would brighten mother's room!"
The "Californian" kicked the leaves impatiently. She had no eye for "bits" of anything less material than sugar, and she had long since finished her one lump; she was tired of travelling in the wrong direction, with her head much lower than her heels, and she suddenly stopped.
It was quite time. Another step forward would have sent them tobogganing into a brawling stream. With a shiver of fear Amy realized this.
"O-oh! Oh! You knew best, after all! You wouldn't come till I made you; and now--how shall we get out! Hark! What's that?"
The burro had already pricked up her ears. There was a shout from somewhere.
Amy managed to slide off and fling herself flat against the slope. When she tried to climb back to a less dangerous spot the twigs she clutched broke in her hands and the rocks cut her flesh. The adventure which had been fascinating was fast becoming frightful.
"Hil-loa! Hil-l-loa!"
Clinging desperately to the undergrowth, she managed to move her head and look down. Far below in the ravine somebody was waving a white cloth.
"Hilloa, up there!"
She was too terrified to speak; yet, after the salute had reached her several times, she dared to loose one hand and wave a returning signal.
"You--just--hold on! I'll come--and get--you!"
As "holding on" was all that either Amy or Pepita could do just then, they obeyed, perforce; although, presently, the burro had scrambled to a narrow ledge, whence she could see the whole descent and from which, if left to herself, she would doubtless have found a way into the valley.
They clung and waited for so long that the girl grew confused; then tried to rally her own courage by addressing the "Californian."
"It's so--so absurd--I mean, awful! If that man doesn't come soon, I shall surely fall. My fingers ache so, and I'm slipping. I--am--slipping! Ah!"
Fortunately, her rescuer was near. He had worked his way upward on all fours, his bare feet clinging securely where shoe-soles would have been useless. He approached without noise, save of breaking twigs, until he was close beside them, when Pepita concluded it was time to bid him welcome.
"Br-r-r-ray! A-humph! A-humph--umph--mph--ph--h!"
The climber halted suddenly.
"Sho-o!"
Also startled, Amy lost her hold and shot downward straight into the arms of the stranger, who seized her, croaking in her ear:--
"Hilloa! What you up to? Can't you wait a minute?"
Then, with a strong grasp of her clothing, he wriggled himself sidewise along the bank to a spot where the rock gave place to earth and shrubs.
"Now catch your breath and let her go!"
The girl might have screamed, but she had no time. Instantly, she was again sliding downward, with an ever-increasing momentum, toward apparent destruction, yet landing finally upon a safe and mossy place; past which, for a brief space, the otherwhere rough stream flowed placidly. She caught the hum of happy insects and the moist sweet odor of growing ferns, then heard another rush and tumble. But she was as yet too dazed to look up or realize fresh peril, before Pepita and the other stood beside her.
"Sho! That beats--huckleberries!"
Amy struggled to her feet. She had never heard a voice like that, which began a sentence with mighty volume and ended it in a whisper. She stared at the owner curiously, and with a fresh fear. "He looks as queer as his voice," she thought.
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