The Wide, Wide World

I keep his house, and I wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat, and make the beds, and do all myself.

    – Shakespeare.

The spring had come, and Alice and Ellen were looking forward to pleasanter rides and walks after the sun should have got a little warmth and the snow should be gone, when one morning, in the early part of March, Mr. Van Brunt made his appearance. Miss Fortune was not well, and had sent him to beg that Ellen would come back to her. He was sorry, he said; he knew Ellen was in the best place: but her aunt wanted her, and "he s'posed she'd have to go." He did not know what was the matter with Miss Fortune; it was a little of one thing and a little of another; "he s'posed she'd overdid, and it was a wonder, for he didn't know she could do it. She thought she was as tough as a piece of shoe-leather, but even that could be wore out."

Ellen looked blank. However, she hurriedly set herself to get her things together, and with Alice's help, in half-an-hour she was ready to go. The parting was hard. They held each other fast a good while, and kissed each other many times without speaking.

"Good-bye, dear Ellie," whispered Alice at last; "I'll come and see you soon. Remember what John said when he went away."

Ellen did not trust herself to speak. She pulled herself away from Alice, and turned to Mr. Van Brunt, saying by her manner that she was ready. He took her bundle, and they went out of the house together.

Ellen made a manful effort all the way down the hill to stifle the tears that were choking her. She knew they would greatly disturb her companion, and she did succeed, though with great difficulty, in keeping them back. Luckily for her, he said hardly anything during the whole walk; she could not have borne to answer a question. It was no fault of Mr. Van Brunt's that he was so silent. He was beating his brains the whole way to think of something it would do to say, and could not suit himself. His single remark was, "that it was like to be a fine spring for the maple, and he guessed they'd make a heap of sugar."

When they reached the door he told her she would find her aunt upstairs, and himself turned off to the barn. Ellen stopped a minute upon the threshold to remember the last time she had crossed it, and the first time. How changed everything now! And the thought came, was this now to be her home for ever? She had need again to remember John's words. When bidding her good-bye he had said, "My little pilgrim, I hope you will keep the straight road, and win the praise of the servant who was faithful over a few things." "I will try!" thought poor Ellen; and then she passed through the kitchen and went up to her own room. Here, without stopping to think, she took off her things, gave one strange look at the old familiar place and her trunk in the corner, fell on her knees for one minute, and then went to her aunt's room.

"Come in!" cried Miss Fortune, when Ellen had knocked. "Well, Ellen, there you are. I am thankful it is you. I was afraid it might be Mimy Lawson or Sarah Lowndes, or some of the rest of the set; I know they'll all come scampering here as soon as they hear I'm laid up."

"Are you very sick, Aunt Fortune?" said Ellen.

"La! no, child. I shall be up again to-morrow; but I felt queer this morning, somehow, and I thought I'd try lying down. I expect I've caught some cold."

There was no doubt of this, but this was not all. Besides catching cold, and doing her best to bring it about, Miss Fortune had overtasked her strength; and by dint of economy, housewifery, and smartness, had brought on herself the severe punishment of lying idle and helpless for a much longer time than she at first reckoned on.

"What can I do for you, Aunt Fortune?" said Ellen.

"Oh, nothing as I know," said Miss Fortune, "only let me alone and don't ask me anything, and keep people out of the house. Mercy! my head feels as if it would go crazy! Ellen, look here," said she, raising herself on her elbow, "I won't have anybody come into this house, if I lie here till doomsday, I won't. Now, you mind me. I ain't agoing to have Mimy Lawson, nor nobody else, poking all round into every hole and corner, and turning every cheese upside down to see what's under it. There ain't one of 'em too good for it, and they sha'n't have a chance. They'll be streaking here, a dozen of 'em, to help take care of the house; but I don't care what becomes of the house – I won't have anybody in it. Promise me you won't let Mr. Van Brunt bring any one here to help. I know I can trust to you to do what I tell you. Promise me!"

Ellen promised, a good deal gratified at her aunt's last words, and once more asked if she could do anything for her.

"Oh, I don't know!" said Miss Fortune, flinging herself back on her pillow. "I don't care what you do if you only keep the house clear. There's the clothes in the basket under the table downstairs – you might begin to iron 'em; they're only rough dry. But don't come asking me about anything; I can't bear it. Ellen, don't let a soul go into the buttery except yourself. And, Ellen! I don't care if you make me a little catnip tea. The catnip's up in the storeroom, the furthest door in the back attic – here's the keys. Don't go fussing with anything else there."

Ellen thought the prospect before her rather doleful when she reached the kitchen. It was in order, to be sure, and clean; but it looked as if the mistress was away. The fire had gone out, the room was cold; even so little a matter as catnip tea seemed a thing far off and hard to come by. While she stood looking at the great logs in the fireplace, which she could hardly move, and thinking it was rather a dismal state of things, in came Mr. Van Brunt with his good-natured face, and wanted to know if he could do anything for her. The very room seemed more comfortable as soon as his big figure was in it. He set about kindling the fire forthwith, while Ellen went up to the storeroom. A well-filled storeroom! Among other things, there hung at least a dozen bunches of dried herbs from one of the rafters. Ellen thought she knew catnip, but after smelling of two or three she became utterly puzzled, and was fain to carry a leaf of several kinds down to Mr. Van Brunt to find out which was which. When she came down again she found he had hung on the kettle for her, and swept up the hearth; so Ellen, wisely thinking it was best to keep busy, put the ironing blanket on the table, and folded the clothes, and set the irons to the fire. By this time the kettle boiled. How to make catnip tea Ellen did not exactly know, but supposed it must follow the same rules as black tea, in the making of which she felt herself very much at home. So she put a pinch or two of catnip leaves into the pot, poured a little water on them, and left it to draw. Meanwhile came in kind Mr. Van Brunt with an armful or two of small short sticks for the fire, which Ellen could manage.

"I wish I could stay here and take care of you all the while," said he; "but I'll be round. If you want anything you must come to the door and holler."

Ellen began to thank him.

"Just don't say anything about that," said he, moving his hands as if he were shaking her thanks out of them; "I'd back all the wood you could burn every day for the pleasure of having you hum again, if I didn't know you was better where you was; but I can't help that. Now, who am I going to get to stay with you? Who would you like to have?"

"Nobody, if you please, Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen; "Aunt Fortune don't wish it, and I had rather not, indeed."

He stood up and looked at her in amazement.

"Why, you don't mean to say," said he, "that you are thinking, or she is thinking, you can get along here alone without help?"

"I'll get along somehow," said Ellen. "Never mind, please let me, Mr. Van Brunt; it would worry Aunt Fortune very much to have anybody; don't say anything about it."

"Worry her!" said he; and he muttered something Ellen did not quite understand, about "bringing the old woman to reason."

However he went off for the present; and Ellen filled up her teapot and carried it upstairs. Her old grandmother was awake; before, when Ellen was in the room, she had been napping; now she showed the greatest delight at seeing her; fondled her, kissed her, cried over her, and finally insisted on getting up directly and going downstairs. Ellen received and returned her caresses with great tenderness, and then began to help her to rise and dress.

"Yes, do," said Miss Fortune; "I shall have a little better chance of sleeping. My stars! Ellen, what do you call this?"

"Isn't it catnip?" said Ellen, alarmed.

"Catnip! it tastes of nothing but the tea-kettle. It's as weak as dish-water. Take it down and make some more. How much did you put in? you want a good double handful, stalks and all; make it strong. I can't drink such stuff as that. I think if I could get into a sweat I should be better."

Ellen went down, established her grandmother in her old corner, and made some more tea. Then, her irons being hot, she began to iron; doing double duty at the same time, for Mrs. Montgomery had one of her talking fits on, and it was necessary to hear and answer a great many things. Presently the first visitor appeared in the shape of Nancy.

"Well, Ellen!" said she; "so Miss Fortune is really sick for once, and you are keeping house. Ain't you grand?"

"I don't feel very grand," said Ellen. "I don't know what is the matter with these clothes; I cannot make 'em look smooth."

"Irons ain't hot," said Nancy.

"Yes they are, too hot. I've scorched a towel already."

"My goodness, Ellen! I guess you have. If Miss Fortune was down you'd get it. Why, they're bone dry!" said Nancy, plunging her hand into the basket; "you haven't sprinkled 'em, have you?"

"To be sure," said Ellen, with an awakened face, "I forgot it!"

"Here, get out of the way, I'll do it for you," said Nancy, rolling up her sleeves, and pushing Ellen from the table; "you just get me a bowl of water, will you? and we'll have 'em done in no time. Who's acoming to help you?"

"Nobody."

"Nobody! you poor chicken; do you think you're agoing to do all the work of the house yourself?"

"No," said Ellen, "but I can do a good deal, and the rest will have to go."

"You ain't going to do no such thing; I'll stay myself."

"No, you can't, Nancy," said Ellen quietly.

"I guess I will if I've a mind to. I should like to know how you'd help it; Miss Fortune's abed."

"I could help it though," said Ellen; "but I am sure you won't when I ask you not."

"I'll do anything you please," said Nancy, "if you'll get Miss Fortune to let me stay. Come do, Ellen! It will be splendid; and I'll help you finely, and I won't bother you neither. Come! go ask her; if you don't, I will."

"I can't, Nancy; she don't want anybody; and it worries her to talk to her. I can't go and ask her."

Nancy impatiently flung down the cloth she was sprinkling and ran upstairs. In a few minutes she came down with a triumphant face, and bade Ellen go up to her aunt.

"Ellen," said Miss Fortune, "if I let Nancy stay will you take care of the keys and keep her out of the buttery?"

"I'll try to, ma'am, as well as I can."

"I'd as lief have her as anybody," said Miss Fortune, "if she'd behave; she was with me a little in the winter; she is smart and knows the ways; if I was sure she would behave herself, but I am afraid she will go rampaging about the house like a wild cat."