“Well—yes—a little,” he replied, carelessly.
“Then,” said aunt Betsey, with an eager look, “according to law and common custom, all the peaches on it belong to us, and I wish you would send up one of the boys to gather them.”
“I shan’t do any such thing!” said uncle Nathan, decidedly.
“Well, then,” she replied, “if you won’t, I will; for what’s ours is ours, and I’ll have it at any rate.”
“Indeed you will!” said uncle Nathan in surprise; “I wouldn’t touch one of those peaches for my right hand, and what’s more, I tell you not to.” It was very seldom that he spoke in such an authoritative manner, and therefore aunt Betsey was considerably disconcerted. She said nothing more, but secretly resolved that have the peaches she would, and as it was high time they were gathered, she felt that the sooner she secured her part the better. That afternoon she had the minister and his wife to tea. She put on her best black silk dress, which she had kept very carefully for more than ten years. She also put on her blandest expression of countenance, and talked so piously that the minister and his wife supposed her to be a perfect model of goodness and propriety. It was sometime after nine when her visitors left, and as uncle Nathan was very much fatigued, he retired immediately, leaving aunt Betsey at her sewing.
“Now,” thought she to herself, “as there is such a clear, bright moon, I will just run over and get those peaches.” She took her basket and hastened forth, but had not proceeded far, when she bethought herself that she had on her very best dress. For a few moments she hesitated, and almost made up her mind to go back and change it, but the fear that she should get hindered or discovered, decided her to keep on and risk the consequences. The way was long and lonely, but aunt Betsey was a very resolute woman, and would go through fire and water to accomplish her purpose. Arriving at the orchard, she crossed it very quickly—mounted the stone wall, and laying hold of the branch, had already deposited several of the peaches in her basket, when she heard a fierce growl, and the next moment Bose seized her by the leg.
“Mercy me!” exclaimed aunt Betsey, as she tumbled down on the wall, all in a heap—“O Bose! you dear, good dog! How you frightened me! Let go of me, Bose! do, there’s a good fellow! Oh! Oh! Why, I’m aunt Betsey, don’t you know me!” But just then, Bose seemed to be no respecter of persons, and the only proof he gave of his goodness, was that of letting go of her leg and seizing her by the dress, which he shook fiercely, rending and tearing it in the most shocking manner. Every thread which gave way, seemed to draw right from aunt Betsey’s heart, but there was no helping it. She attempted to conciliate Bose by patting him, but it rather appeared to increase his fury, and to all her terms of affection and endearment, he only answered by significant growls.
“O dear!” she exclaimed at length, “what shall I do! I never saw such a savage, unmanageable brute in my life!” She sat still for some time, and the dog gradually loosened his hold. She felt greatly relieved, and drew up her feet gently to spring from the wall; but the moment she did so, Bose seized her dress in a new place, and tore it most shockingly. Aunt Betsey grew desperate.
“Begone! you villain you!” she exclaimed, as she beat the dog upon his head with her basket. She discovered immediately, however, that this was an altogether mistaken movement, for Bose seized her at once by the arm, and set his teeth so firmly that she cried out with pain.
“O merciful Heaven!” she moaned, “I believe I have done wrong, or I never should be punished so terribly. But O, Lord!” she added devoutly, with uplifted hands—“if thou wilt only bring me out of this difficulty, I never will do the like again.” Even her prayers, though, seemed just then to be unavailing, for the dog would not let her stir an inch. If she remained quiet any length of time, Bose sat down beside her, but the moment she started he seized her again. At one time, she attempted to cry out for assistance, but at this Bose became perfectly furious, and therefore she desisted.