A daughter of Jehu

by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

"You were quite right, Sarepta! Tell me again just how it was, will you? I didn't quite take it in the first time."

Evidently nothing loth, Sarepta spoke as follows:

"It was five o'clock, or thereabouts. She had just come in from the stable; she feeds too much sugar to them hosses, and so I tell John Tucker, but of course he knew all about hosses before they was created. The telephone rang and she went. It was Ruby Caddie's voice. I could tell by the cackle; she sounds for all the world like our Black Spanish hen; of course I couldn't hear what she said. 'Yes,' says Kitty. 'Yes, quite clear! Yes, I understand entirely.' Then I judge Ruby asked her to repeat the message, for she says, kind o' singin' it, Madam Flynt, the way I never heard her speak before since she could speak: 'Comin', coach and six. Duke!'

"Well: Kitty covered her face with her two hands and stood there a spell: if you'll excuse me mentionin' it, as if she was prayin'! Then she hung up, and swung round, and see me standin' there. I had no idea of listenin' you understand, Madam Flynt. I would scorn the action. I was just passin' through the hall, and the sound of her voice—well, it was so peculiar, I just stopped in my steps. First of it when she looked up, she was white as my apurn: then, all in a flash, the child's face was like she was afire, so to express it; her eyes were shinin', and her cheeks—well, there! I expected to hear the flames cracklin'. She rushes up to me and takes my two hands. 'Dance, Sarepta!' she says, wild as a hawk. 'Dance! you must dance!' and she drags me up and down that hall—you know the stren'th of her wrists, drivin' like she does—till the breath was out of my body; and all the time she was singin', a crazy kind of jig tune she's ben singin' about the house this two weeks past till I thought I should fly. 'Do for the land's sake,' I'd say, 'sing something that has some sense to it!' It don't begin nor end anywhere, goes round and round like a cat's cradle—well, it's crazy, that's all there is to it! She sang and danced till her breath gave out; I was past speech or cry by that time. Then she throws her arms round me and hugs me till—well, I hadn't any breath, but if I had, I wouldn't of, if you understand what I mean: and then off she flings out the back door, and I heard her routin' round in the stable, and next thing out she comes with Pilot in the light wagon and off they go down the ro'd like Job's cat after a fish. That was two hours ago, and she ain't come back yet. I thought I'd step over——"

"Where is John Tucker?" asked Madam Flynt.

"Home sick, with the rheumatism. If he'd ben there, I don't know as I need to have troubled you; not that he has much sense, but still he has some. Hark! there! I do believe—yes'm, there she is; just turnin' into the yard. Thanks be! I must hasten back."

"You are a good soul, Sarepta Darwin!" Madam Flynt spoke with feeling. "You were very right to come over. Get Kitty to come in and see me in the morning, will you? Make some errand, so she won't know——"

"Yes'm, I will! I'll borry an egg or something; thank you, Madam Flynt! Good-night!"

Kitty, dancing into the kitchen half an hour later, found a grim figure sitting bolt upright, reading a religious paper of austere appearance. Her gay "Supper, please, Sarepta!" was rewarded with the information that there was no supper that Sarepta knew of. Supper was at six o'clock; if folks were here, they'd get it; if they preferred to get their victuals elsewhere, it was no concern of hers that she knew of. Kitty opened wide eyes.

"Oh! Excuse me for living!" she said. "Am I so very late? The moonlight is so heavenly, Sarepta, I think I was very good to come in at all; and of course I had to see to those Lambs before I had my own supper. John Tucker wanted to send Timmy over, but I wouldn't let him; I love to put them to bed once in a while. But no matter, Sarepta. I'll find a doughnut and some milk; don't bother. I'm not really hungry!"