Read Miss Grief and Other Stories for Free Online Page A

shall, mother,’ says I. ‘Samuel has great gifts; he isn’t like common folks.’
    â€œâ€˜But common folks is a deal comfortabler,’ says mother. The folks never understood Samuel.
    â€œWell, we had a chirk little house and bit of land, and baby came, and was so cunning and pretty. The visions had begun to appear then, and Samuel said he must go.
    â€œâ€˜Where?’ says I.
    â€œâ€˜Anywhere the spirits lead me,’ says he.
    â€œBut baby couldn’t travel, and so it hung along; Samuel left off work, and everything ran down to loose ends; I did the best I could, but it wasn’t much. Then baby died, and I buried him under the thorn-tree, and the visions came thicker and thicker, and Samuel told me as how this time he must go. The folks wanted me to stay behind without him; but they never understood me nor him. I could no more leave him than I could fly; I was just wrapped up in him. So we went away; I cried dreadfully when it came to leaving the folks and Robin’s little grave, but I had so much to do after we got started, that there wasn’t time for anything but work. We thought to settle in ever so many places, but after a while there would always come a vision, and I’d have to sell out and start on. The little money we had was soon gone, and then I went out for days’ work, and picked up any work I could get. But many’s the time we were cold, and many’s the time we were hungry, gentlemen. The visions kept coming, and by and by I got to like ’em too. Samuel he told me all they said when I came home nights, and it was nice to hear all about the thousand years of joy, when there’d be no more trouble, and when Robin would come back to us again. Only I told Samuel that I hoped the world wouldn’t alter much, because I wanted to go back to Maine for a few days, and see all the old places. Father and mother are dead, I suppose,” said Roxana, looking up at us with a pathetic expression in her small dull eyes. Beautiful eyes are doubly beautiful in sorrow; but there is something peculiarly pathetic in small dull eyes looking up at you, struggling to express the grief that lies within, like a prisoner behind the bars of his small dull window.
    â€œAnd how did you lose your breastpin?” I said, coming back to the original subject.
    â€œSamuel found I had it, and threw it away soon after we came to the Flats; he said it was vanity.”
    â€œHave you been here long?”
    â€œO yes, years. I hope we shall stay here always now,—at least, I mean until the thousand years of joy begin,—for it’s quiet, and Samuel’s more easy here than in any other place. I’ve got used to the lonely feeling, and don’t mind it much now. There’s no one near us for miles, except Rosabel Lee and Liakim; they don’t come here, for Samuel can’t abide ’em, but sometimes I stop there on my way over from the mainland, and have a little chat about the children. Rosabel Lee has got lovely children, she has! They don’t stay there in the winter, though; the winters are long, I don’t deny it.”
    â€œWhat do you do then?”
    â€œWell, I knit and cook, and Samuel reads to me, and has a great many visions.”
    â€œHe has books, then?”
    â€œYes, all kinds; he’s a great reader, and he has boxes of books about the spirits, and such things.”
    â€œNine of the night. Take thou thy rest. I will lay me down in peace and sleep; for it is thou, Lord, only, that makest me dwell in safety,” chanted the voice in the hall; and our evening was over.
    At dawn we attended the service on the roof; then, after breakfast, we released Captain Kidd, and started out for another day’s sport. We had not rowed far when Roxana passed us, poling her flat-boat rapidly along; she had a load of fish and butter, and was bound for the mainland village. “Bring usback a Detroit paper,” I