Читать книгу Pat of Silver Bush - L. M. Montgomery - Страница 25

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Pat loved to watch Judy set bread and listen to her talking to herself as she always did while kneading and thumping. To-night Judy was reviewing the church wedding.

“Oh, oh, she was dressed very gay outside but I’m wondering what was undernath. Sure and it’s well if it was no worse than patches ... Bertha Holmes is the pert one. Only fifteen and she do be making eyes at the b’ys already. I remimber her at her own aunt’s widding whin she was about the age av Pat here. She was after throwing hersilf on the floor and kicking and scraming. Oh, oh, wudn’t I like to have had the spanking av her! Simon Gardiner was be way av being rale groomed up to-day. Sure and whin I saw him, so starched and proper in his pew, looking as if he was doing the world a big favour be living, it was hard to belave the last time I saw him he was so drunk he thought the table was follying him round, and crying like a baby he was bekase it wud be sure to catch him, having four legs to his two. It tickled me ribs, that. Oh, oh, it’s liddle folks know what other folks do be thinking av thim in church. And wud ye listen to Ould Man Taylor calling his wife sugar-pie and him married thirty years, the ould softy. Though maybe it’s better than George Harvey and his ’ould woman.’ There was ould Elmer Davidson stumbling in late whin the cirrimony had begun and sp’iling the solemnity. He’ll be late for the resurrection, that one. Mary Jarvis and her yilping whin they were signing the papers! Thim that likes can call it singing. Singing, indade! The Great-aunts av the Bay Shore farm were after being a bit more stately than common ... be way of showing their contimpt for both Gardiners and Madisons I’m thinking. Sure and it’s a wonder they condescend to come at all. Oh, oh, but the supper wud give thim one in the eye. It’s a long day since they’ve set down to such a spread I’m thinking. Oh, oh, but I got square wid Ould Maid Sands. Sez I to her, sly-like, ‘While there’s life there’s hope.’ She knew well what I was maning, so she did.”

Judy was shaking with silent laughter as she patted her bread. Then she grew sober.

“Oh, oh, there was one at the widding that’ll be to none other. Kate MacKenzie has got the sign.”

“What sign, Judy?” asked Pat drowsily.

“Oh, oh, I forgot liddle pitchers have the long ears, darlint. ’Tis the death sign I mint. But it do be life. There’s always the birth and the death and the bridal mixed up togither. And a nice cheerful widding it was in spite av all.”

Pat was almost asleep. The down-trodden black cats were beginning to trot around the rug under her very eyes.

“Wake up, me jewel, and go to bed properly. Listen at that wind. There’ll be apples to pick up to-morrow.”

Pat looked up, yawning and comforted. After all, life at dear Silver Bush was going on. The world hadn’t come to an end just because Aunt Hazel was gone.

“Judy, tell me again about the man you saw hanged in Ireland before I go to bed.”

“Oh, oh, that do be a tarrible story for bed-time. It wud make yer hair stand on end.”

“I like having my hair stand on end. Please, Judy.”

Judy picked Pat up on her knee.

“Hug me close, Judy, and tell me.”

The harrowing tale was told and Pat, who had heard it a dozen times before, thrilled just as deliciously as at the first. There was no doubt about it ... she enjoyed “tarrible” things.

“Sure and I shudn’t be telling ye all these tales av bad people,” said Judy, a bit uncomfortably, looking at Pat’s dilated eyes.

“Of course, Judy, I like to live with good people better than bad, but I like hearing about bad people better than good.”

“Well, I do be thinking it wud be a dull world if nobody iver did anything he oughtn’t. What wud we find to talk about?” asked Judy unanswerably. “Innyway it’s to bed ye must be going. And say a prayer for all poor ghosts. If Wild Dick or Waping Willy or ather or both av thim are on the fence to-night ’tis a wet time they’ll be having av it.”

“Maybe I won’t be so lonesome if I say my prayers twice,” thought Pat. She said them twice and even contrived to pray for her new uncle. Perhaps as a reward for this she fell asleep instantly. Once in the night she wakened and a flood of desolation poured over her. But in the darkness she heard a melodious purring and felt the beautiful touch of a velvet cat. Pat swallowed hard. The rain was still sobbing around the eaves. Aunt Hazel was gone. But Silver Bush held her in its heart. To lie in this dear house, sheltered from the storm, with Thursday purring under her hand ... apples to be picked to-morrow ... oh, life began to beckon once more. Pat fell asleep comforted.