In spite
of her confirmed habit of tantalizing Grandpa--and this was from no
malevolence of motive, but simply as the conscientious fulfilment of a
sacred religious and domestic duty--she was the most delightful soul I
ever knew.
At supper, it was a habit for her to sit at the table long after we had
finished our meal, and to continue eating and talking in her slow,
automatic, sublimely philosophical manner, until not a vestige of
anything eatable remained, and then as she rose, she would remark,
simply, with a glance at the denuded board:--
"It beats all, how near you guessed the vittles to-night, daughter!"
Then Grandma resorted to an occasional pastime, harmless and playful
enough in itself, yet intended as a special means of discipline for
Grandpa, and certainly, a source of great torment and anxiety to that
poor old man.
Between the hours of eight and nine P.M., Grandma would deftly glide out
of the family circle, and be seen no more that night. At bedtime, Grandpa
would begin the search, while Madeline and I ungenerously retired.
In the privacy of my own chamber, I could hear the old Captain tramping
desolately about the Ark, calling, "Ma! ma!" Could hear the outside door
swung open, and imagine Grandpa's wild face peering into the darkness,
while still he called; "Ma! ma! where be ye? It's half after ten!"
Then, from the foot of the stairs would arise his distressed, appealing
cry; "Come, ma, where be ye? It's half after ten!" Silence everywhere.
Pages:
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171