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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 06, No. 36, October, 1860"


"How good of you, to come through all this heat, and not to laugh at
my despair!" she said, looking up like a grateful child, as she led
him in.
"I only obeyed orders, Nan; for a certain dear old lady had a motherly
presentiment that you had got into a domestic whirlpool, and sent me
as a sort of life-preserver. So I took the basket of consolation, and
came to fold my feet upon the carpet of contentment in the tent of
friendship."
As he spoke, John gave his own gift in his mother's name, and bestowed
himself in the wide window-seat, where morning-glories nodded at him,
and the old butternut sent pleasant shadows dancing to and fro.
His advent, like that of Orpheus in Hades, seemed to soothe all
unpropitious powers with a sudden spell. The fire began to slacken,
the kettles began to lull, the meat began to cook, the irons began to
cool, the clothes began to behave, the spirits began to rise, and the
collar was finished off with most triumphant success. John watched the
change, and, though a lord of creation, abased himself to take
compassion on the weaker vessel, and was seized with a great desire to
lighten the homely tasks that tried her strength of body and soul. He
took a comprehensive glance about the room; then, extracting a dish
from the closet, proceeded to imbrue his hands in the strawberries'
blood.
"Oh, John, you needn't do that; I shall have time when I've turned the
meat, made the pudding, and done these things.


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