Autumn
day with Mrs. Grumble. There, as she sat rocking up and down in the kitchen, the fall wind brought to her nose the odor of grapes ripening in the sun. The corn stoo
shoulders. She kept one eye on the oven where her biscuits were baking, counted stitches, and listened to Miss Beal,
new dress this year. Well, she's right, material is dreadful to get. As I said to her: Mrs. Stov
Grumble. "Here's an ol
. "Still," she added, speaking
ow," said Mrs.
the dressmaker. "Gra
things costing what they do, and every one so
s Beal slowly. "It's too awful. I
s," said Mrs. Grumble.
u can't trust a one o
good deal I want to see. I'd like
rs. Grumble, "
id the dressmaker, "c
a circus," decla
out, in and out, faster than ever, "would you, now? Well, t
along?" aske
said Mi
anyhow," said
le. "Well, I declare," she r
; "to hear you talk . . ." S
ill be there," said Mi
with Susie Ploughma
and Anna
aid Mrs.
er thing," she admitted. "I can't make head nor tail of it. Do
than I gave him credit for. Because how any one could have a
ss Beal, "first with Noel, when
full of them. Only the other day, down to the store, I heard her say to
of that," sa
n the other foot. What with the young folks growing up so wild,
the dressmaker, lifting from her lap a dress
lied Mrs. Grumble, with a shake of
think Anna Barly meant by saying 't
ur soul," said
htly know, Mrs. Grumble," she said, "but I came on her yesterday, and I declare if she hadn't been cr
" said Mr
to say there's anything as shouldn't
e I don't believe a word of it." But she felt it her
s Beal, "so Sara Barly says. Lord sa
who get it," said Mrs
in a myst
ders to
ove. "We'll have some tea," she said, "and I'll cook you
said Mi
e Milford stage. As the wagon set out, creaking and crowded, everyone began to ta
denrod and white and purple blooms in which the bees and wasps were still busy. There, above the crowd of men and women, the happy insects were bringing to a close their own bazaar, begun amid the showers of early spring. Here was the bee, with his milch-cow, the ant with her souvenir, and the mild cricket, amused like
ieve I have a right to this place, which, but for m
. Grumble had her fortune told. They rode on the carousel, all the while thinking: "This is really too silly." As Mrs. Grumble climbed down from
s, yellow and green, against the farther woods, the autumn sky, swept by its bright winds. All about them men
he arm, made her way toward the track, where she could see the horses going g
d sped away with a rush; the band
re Mr. Jeminy, close to the fence, was dancing up and down, wa
e," echoed
nd fault with Mr. Jeminy. "He's enjoying himself," she s
to her that she was right, and Mrs. Grumble was wrong. Without courage on her own account, she wa
rbidding expression. "I expect," she said, "tha
nd's tone, "maybe he is. And maybe there's others old enoug
ed Mrs. Grumble, "it'
don't like to repeat this to you, Mrs. Grumble, there's many think Mr. Jeminy is too old t
id Mrs.
a gesture at once triumphant and consoling. "Ne
ed in his hand a bit of lace for Mrs. Grumble. As he went down the road, beneath the turning leaves, and throug
d of al
liber
the sma
on eve
d of al
eth al
me no
me no
from these woods, where there is none left but the catbird, to creak upon the bough. Soon snow will cover the earth, in which nothing is growin
arly home he looked be
urning from the fair. H
shining in his eyes,
oung are ha