THE WIND IN THE ROSE-BUSH(玫瑰丛间的风).pdf

THE WIND IN THE ROSE-BUSH
THE WIND IN THE
ROSE-BUSH
By Mary Wilkins
1
THE WIND IN THE ROSE-BUSH
THE WIND IN THE ROSE-BUSH
Ford Village has no railroad station, being on the other side of the
river from Porter's Falls, and accessible only by the ford which gives it its
name, and a ferry line.
The ferry-boat was waiting when a Flint got off the train with
her bag and lunch basket. When she and her small trunk were safely
embarked she sat stiff and straight and calm in the ferry- boat as it shot
swiftly and smoothly across stream. There was a horse attached to a light
country wagon on board, and he pawed the deck uneasily. His owner
stood near, with a wary eye upon him, although he was chewing, with as
dully reflective an expression as a cow. Beside a sat a woman of
about her own age, who kept looking at her with furtive curiosity; her
husband, short and stout and saturnine, stood near her. a paid, no
attention to either of them. She was tall and spare and pale, the type of a
spinster, yet with rudimentary lines and expressions of matronhood. She
all unconsciously held her shawl, rolled up in a canvas bag, on her left hip,
as if it had been a child. She wore a settled frown of dissent at life, but it
was the frown of a mother who regarded life as a froward child, rather
than as an overwhelming fate.
The other woman continued staring at her; she was mildly stupid,
except for an over-developed curiosity which made her at times sharp
beyond belief. Her eyes glittered, red spots came on her id cheeks;
she kept opening her mouth to speak, making little abortive motions.
Finally she could endure it no longer; she nudged a boldly.
"A pleasant day," said she.
a looked at her and nodded coldly.
"Yes, very," she assented.
"Have e far?"
"I e from Michigan."
"Oh!" said the woman, with awe. "It's a long way," she remarked
presently.
"Yes, it is," replied a, conclusively.
Still the other woman was not daunted; there was something