icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Rainbow Valley

Chapter 4 THE MANSE CHILDREN

Word Count: 3043    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

ulgent man. But it could not be denied that there was something very homelike and lovable about the Glen St. Mary manse in spite

beautiful views of harbour and sand-dunes from its front windows. But these things had been there in the reign of Mr. Meredith's predecessor, when the manse had been the primmest, neatest, and dreariest house in the Glen. So much of th

yard but, as he paced up and down the room, reflecting deeply on the immortality of the soul, he was quite unaware that Jerry and Carl were playing leap-frog hilariously over the flat stones in that abode of dead Methodists. Mr. Meredith had occasional acute realizations that his children were not so well looked after, physically or morally, as they had been before his wife died, and he had always a dim sub-cons

called. The new graveyard, at the other side of the Methodist church, was a neat and proper and doleful spot; b

e, which had been built by the first settlers of the Glen, was old enough to be beautiful, with mosses and green things growing out of its crevices, violets purpling at its base in th

s and deepening eastward into a thick wood. The air was always full of the harp-like voices of the sea, and the music of gray old trees, and in the s

tain Alec Davis who had been born a Methodist but had taken to himself a Presbyterian bride of the Douglas clan. She had made him turn Presbyterian and kept him toeing the Presbyterian mark all his life. But when he died she did not dare to doom him to a lonely grave in the Presbyterian graveyard over-harbour. His people were all buried in the Methodist cemetery; so Alec Davis went back to his own in death and his widow consoled herself by erecting a monument which cost more than any of the Methodists

ess and glowing. She had golden-brown eyes, golden-brown curls and crimson cheeks. She laughed too much to please her father's congregation and had shocked old Mrs. Taylor, t

r small face. She was much more sensitive to public opinion than Faith, and had an uneasy consciousness that there was something askew in their way of living. She longed to put it right, but did not know how. Now and then she dusted the furniture-but it was so seldom she could find the duster because it was never

ver knew what uncanny creature might be secreted about him. Jerry refused to sleep with him because Carl had once taken a young garter snake to bed with him; so Carl slept in his old cot, which was so short that he could never stretch out, and had strange

buried if you were a Methodi

interesting fiel

ry. "I'D like that corner near the road, I guess. I co

birch," said Una. "That birch is such a place f

o many children buried. I like lots of c

Carl, "but if I had to be I'd like the

been reading the laudatory old epitaphs. "There doesn't seem to be a single bad per

like they do cats," suggested Carl. "Maybe they d

t say anything of him but good or he'll come back and ha'nt you. Aunt Martha told me that. I asked father if it was true and he just

ck and ha'nt me if I threw a stone at the

ce at her nephew and he made one back at me and you should have seen her glare. I'll bet she boxed HIS ears when th

would never have his father again, even when her husband was d

ad been at the station that afternoon when the Blythe s

l that Walter's a

aid Una, who had though

poem, Bertie Shakespeare Drew told me. Bertie's mother thought HE should have got the prize be

girls are nice. I don't like most of the girls round here. Even the nice ones are poky. But the Blythe twin

been only six when her mother died, but she had some very precious memories, treasured in her soul like jewe

't like other peo

s because she never real

er than Mrs

s. Elliot says Mrs. Blythe jus

l?" interrupted

e floating up on the still evening air from the dire

me hungry,

s for supper and cold ditto fo

p every day, cold and greasy, as long as it lasted. To this Faith, in a moment of inspi

re that smell is comi

the mossy slope, guided by the savory lure that ever grew stronger. A few minutes later they arrived breathles

recipitate: but Di Blythe was equal to that and any

re," she said. "You belon

her face creas

out cooking and won

wn and help us e

want yourselves," said Jerry, loo

ee apiece," said

fectly well-that Carl had two young mice in his jacket pocket. But they never knew it, so it never hurt them. Where can folks get better acquainted than over a meal table? When the last

ey traditions, and of the little house by the harbour shore where Jem had been born. The Ingleside children heard of May

laughed at her for petting a rooster. She liked th

er. And I brought him up from a little, wee, yellow chicken. Mrs. Johnson at Maywater gave him to me. A weasel had killed all

t house away up t

ered Nan. "Di and I are going to take mus

r envy. Oh, if she could only have music lessons! It was one of the dr

r hair is just the colour of new molasses taffy," she added wistfully-for

always used to give me candies when she

hen he was little! Mother says the first Sunday Mrs. Ford brought him to church Miss Ellen happened to be there, sittin

ord?" asked Un

this summer. They live in that little house 'way, 'way down on the harbour shore where fat

hakespeare Drew told me about her. She was married f

ng straight. I know the whole story and I'll tell it to you some time, but not now, for it's too

the minister was still too deeply lost in speculations concerning the immortality of the soul to remem

Blythes. It's SO nice when you can love people because so often you CAN'T. Father said in his ser

it," said Faith airily. "He has more s

oments on a solitary expedition to a remote corner of Rainbow Valley. Mayflowers g

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open