Mother Carey's Chickens eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 276 pages of information about Mother Carey's Chickens.

Mother Carey's Chickens eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 276 pages of information about Mother Carey's Chickens.

Mrs. Carey shuddered internally.  “No, Mr. Popham, we mustn’t have any ‘shine’ on the landscapes.  Yes, they are dreadfully dim and faded, but I simply cannot have them covered up!”

“It would be wicked to hide them!” said Nancy.  “Oh, Muddy, is it our duty to write to Mr. Hamilton and tell him about them?  He would certainly take the house away from us if he could see how beautiful we have made it, and now here is another lovely thing to tempt him.  Could anybody give up this painted chamber if it belonged to him?”

“Well, you see,” said Mr. Popham assuringly, “if you want to use this painted chamber much, you’ve got to live in Beulah; an’ Lem Hamilton ain’t goin’ to stop consullin’ at the age o’ fifty, to come here an’ rust out with the rest of us;—­no, siree!  Nor Mis’ Lem Hamilton wouldn’t stop over night in this village if you give her the town drinkin’ trough for a premium!”

“Is she fashionable?” asked Julia.

“You bet she is!  She’s tall an’ slim an’ so chuck full of airs she’d blow away if you give her a puff o’ the bellers!  The only time she come here she stayed just twenty-four hours, but she nearly died, we was all so ‘vulgar.’  She wore a white dress ruffled up to the waist, and a white Alpine hat, an’ she looked exactly like the picture of Pike’s Peak in my stereopticon.  Mis’ Popham overheard her say Beulah was full o’ savages if not cannibals.  ‘Well,’ I says to Maria, ’no matter where she goes, nobody’ll ever want to eat her alive!’—­Look at that meetin’ house over the mantel shelf, an’ that grassy Common an’ elm trees!  ’T wa’n’t no house painter done these walls!”

“And look at this space between the two front windows,” cried Kathleen.  “See the hens and chickens and the Plymouth Rock rooster!”

“And the white calf lying down under the maple; he’s about the prettiest thing in the room,” said Gilbert.

“We must just let it be and think it out,” said Mother Carey.  “Don’t put any new paper on, now; there’s plenty to do downstairs.”

“I don’t know ’s I should particularly like to lay abed in this room,” said Osh, his eyes roving about the chamber judicially.  “I shouldn’t hev no comfort ondressin’ here, nohow; not with this mess o’ live stock lookin’ at me every minute, whatever I happened to be takin’ off.  I s’pose that rooster’d be right on to his job at sun-up!  Well, he couldn’t git ahead of Mis’ Popham, that’s one thing; so ’t I shouldn’t be any worse off ’n I be now!  I don’t get any too much good sleep as ’t is!  Mis’ Popham makes me go to bed long afore I’m ready, so ’t she can git the house shut up in good season; then ’bout ’s soon’s I’ve settled down an’ bed one short nap she says, ‘It’s time you was up, Ossian!"’

“Mother!  I have an idea!” cried Nancy suddenly, as Mr. Popham took his leave and the family went out into the hall.  “Do you know who could make the walls look as they used to?  My dear Olive Lord!”

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Project Gutenberg
Mother Carey's Chickens from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.