It is evident Ben felt remarkably happy about this time, one reason of which was, that he had determined to put Joe Griffin in the Perseverance, who was going to fish a short distance from the shore. Henry Griffin and Robert Yelf were going with him, and Uncle Isaac before and after haying: thus Ben was going to have a good time farming—the work he liked best.
“Sally,” said Mrs. Hadlock, “I wouldn’t worry about the yarn; it’s nothing to what old Aunt Betty Prindle met with.”
“What was that, mother?”
“She had a shawl that had been her grandmother’s; a beautiful one it was; came from foreign parts, and cost a sight in its day; but having been worn for so many years, you know, it would naturally get soiled. She had been wanting to wash it for a great many years, had often threatened to, and indeed more than once set a time to do it; but when the time came her heart failed her; even after the water was hot, she was afraid to put it into the tub, for fear it would fade. I think she would have done it once, but her darter Patience, who knew it would fall to her when the old lady was done with it, discouraged her. At last, one spring, just about this time of year (she lived, you know, with her son Richard), she determined that, come what might, she would wash it. One morning she said to her granddarter, ‘Lois Ann Prindle, do you go straight down to Aunt Olive Cobb’s and Peggy Sylvester’s, over to Mrs. Joe Ransom’s, and the widder Tucker’s, give my compliments, and ask them to come over and take a cup of tea (green tea, mind) with me this afternoon.’ They all came; and when tea was over, she said, ‘You know, neighbors, I am an old parson, and can’t, in the course of nature, expect to live many years. I do want to see this shawl washed before I’m taken away; but our Patience has always discouraged me; but she’s gone to Cape Porpoise to stay a month, and I’m determined to have it in the tub before she comes back; that is, if you think it will do; and I want you to pass your judgment on’t.’”
“The old lady meant to have plenty of advice,” said Sally.
“That was so that Patience couldn’t put all the blame on her, in case it faded,” replied Ben.
“The shawl was brought out,” said Mrs. Hadlock, “and laid across their knees, when judgment was passed on it; every one but the widow Tucker thought it would wash, and if it was their shawl, they should wash it; but she said, ‘she knew it wouldn’t wash, for the Wildridge family, in old York, had jest such a shawl, and they washed it, and it faded dreadfully; but there,’ said she, looking out of the window, ‘comes black Luce, Flour’s wife; she is a great washer and ironer, and knows more about it than all of us.’ Luce was called in, and said, ‘if they put a beef’s gall in the water, it would set the color, and it wouldn’t fade a mite.’ ‘Then I’ll wash it, I declare to man I will, for Enoch Paine’s going to kill an ox this week, and our Patience won’t be home till long arter that.’
“Aunt Betty procured her beef’s gall, got her water hot, and put it in.
“‘Here it goes,’ said she, ‘hit or miss,’ dropping the shawl into the tub. She washed and spread it out on the grass to dry, and every two or three minutes ran out to look at it. At length it began to dry at the edges, and she saw it wasn’t going to fade one mite. Down went her flatirons to the fire. ‘Lois Ann, run right down to the neighbors you went to before, tell them the shawl is drying beautifully. I am going to iron it, and want them to come up and take tea to-night, and see it. Tell Luce to come, too, and arter we’ve done, she shall have as good a cup of green tea as ever she had in her life.’”