In the first place, they had each had a new saddle given them, having always, until now, to make shift as well as might be with two discarded ones no longer fit for heavy use. They almost took their new saddles to bed with them, so rapturous was their delight in them.
Rose agreed. “They are the most beautiful saddles in the world, Ruth. Oh, dear, I wish the weather would give us a chance to try them on the broncos!”
But so far it hadn’t, for Christmas had come in with a storm, and the snow was too deep for riding. So the two girls tried their new snow-shoes, second to the splendid saddles in the joy they created. They got a few tumbles in the soft snow, and lay helpless with laughter till their father pulled them up and started them fresh. But before long they were expert enough to get along without assistance, and even to race each other.
There had been other gifts; no one had expressed a wish, it seemed, all the year, which had not been remembered. And there had been a tree and a joyous2 dinner ending with a real English plum pudding, such as Marmie had learned to make when she was a little girl in England. Dad had been gloriously happy over the sweater Rose and Ruth had spent months in knitting for him, and Marmie simply tickled3 to death over a patent dish-washer they had got for her, assisted by Dad. Oh, it was a great Christmas!
After a day of strenuous4 exercise on the snow-shoes the girls were in their usual places before the log fire, watching the strange glowing pictures in the flames. The days were so short that though it was already dark, it was still a long way to supper, and Ruth was wondering which of her new books she would begin with, and whether Rose would get up and light the lamp if she asked her, when her sister remarked:
“It will be my turn to wish the next time the fairy comes, and do you know what I’m going to ask her to do?”
“What?”
“Do you remember how Marmie has told us about her visit to Knutsford, in England, when she was little? And that that is the real name of 109Cranford. Well, don’t you think it would be dandy to go there the next time we go through the Magic Gate?”
“Jiminy!” exclaimed Ruth, adopting one of her sister’s expressions, in her excited approval of the idea.
“Last time, when you wished, I was so afraid you’d choose that. Rowena was a fine wish, though. But there must be lots of nice little girls in Cranford, and we will have such fun if the fairy takes us there—I wish we could take our new saddles with us.”
“The little girls in Cranford haven’t any cow-ponies,” Ruth returned.
“I should say not.” But it wasn’t either of the girls that said that.
No, it was Honeysweet, as Rose had inwardly named their fairy, because of that small, golden voice of hers. And now, in the joy of hearing her, she divulged5 this name.
“Very pretty,” agreed the fairy. “It’s always been a favourite of mine, too—honey, I mean.”
“Then can we call you Honeysweet after this?”
“Why not make it Honeysqueak, since it’s my voice you’re alluding7 to?” replied the fairy, laughing.
They laughed too. What a funny name, and her voice wasn’t at all a squeak6. But the name caught their fancy, all the same, and was immediately adopted. Fairy Honeysqueak! Who ever heard anything so absurd, and how the girls giggled8. 110Then Rose told her wish to go to Cranford and meet the little girls of that delightful9 village.
Honeysqueak thought it an excellent plan. “They are extremely good little girls,” she said, “and I’m sure you couldn’t be in better company. I’ll take you there for tea, which is the proper time to visit in Cranford. Indeed, I think the good ladies have the kettle on the fire already, expecting you. So give me your little paws, and shut your eyes....”
They found themselves walking sedately10 up a paved street between high walls, over which fell pink and yellow roses, jasmine and ivy11. Evidently there had recently been a shower, for the cobbles were shining with wet, while here and there a puddle12 gleamed. But the sun was out again, and the sky blue above them. No one was to be seen, but they seemed to know where to go, turning to the right at a corner without the slightest hesitation13.
Nothing so demure14 as their two selves had ever met their eyes before. They were dressed in the quaintest15 little gowns imaginable, made of flowered muslin, with full, ruffled17 skirts over—yes, actually!—over lace-trimmed pantelettes that were gathered in close to their ankles. Low, heelless slippers18 with ribbons that crossed behind and tied in front in a tiny bow, and white stockings were on their feet, and in addition they wore odd overshoes with supports under the instep that lifted them nearly a couple of inches above the damp pavement. Clack-clack went these queer things with each step they took.
Snowy white undersleeves of sheer lawn with hemstitching, and tuckers to match completed their gowns, while on their heads were the cutest poke19 bonnets20, tied under the chin with a huge ribbon bow. Their hair was arranged in quantities of curls, which filled in the bonnets all round their cheeks most attractively. Rose’s ribbons were pink, as were the flowers of her printed muslin, and Ruth’s blue, the babiest blue.
They smiled at each other. Each wore mits, and carried a reticule over one arm, a neat parasol being in Rose’s possession.
As they turned a corner they met a boy in long green trousers reaching almost to his ankles and buttoning to an absurd short-waisted coat with a double row of brass21 buttons down the front and a wide turndown collar. A low, wide-brimmed felt hat was on his head, and a mass of curls hung from under the brim.
“Here you are,” he remarked cheerily. “Mrs. Jenkyns sent me to see if I could find you on the way. Tea is ready, and all the young people are gathered to meet you.”
“Are we late?” asked Ruth anxiously, pattering along faster on her amazing footgear. She thought the things harder to manage than snow-shoes.
“Oh, no,” answered the boy, gallantly22 offering an arm to each of the girls. And so escorted, they turned in at an open gateway23, proceeded up a very neat box-bordered path, and found themselves in front of an open doorway24 that led into a tiny hall. From beyond came a sound of voices.
As they paused, releasing their guide the better to settle their bonnets before going in, a pretty maid in a very large white apron25 and cap to match came tripping down the hall. Smilingly she took the parasol, helped to untie26 the poke bonnets and asked them to leave their pattens in the corner of the hall. So they slipped off the clackety things with relief, and followed the maid toward the voices.
“I feel rather frightened,” Ruth whispered, and Rose nodded for answer. She looked a trifle flushed and nervous. Everything was so sort of hushed, as she confided27 to Ruth later.
At the door the two girls were met by a sweet-faced old lady in very full skirts, wearing a large lacy cap trimmed with ribbons on top of her white hair.
“I’m sure it’s most pleasant of you to come, dears,” she said. “George told me he found you right at the corner. And now come and meet the young people before we sit down to our tea.”
Sitting primly28 on the straight-backed chairs and a long settee between two windows were some six or seven girls and three little boys. The girls were all dressed in the same fashion as Rose and Ruth, and the boys wore the same funny trousers and short coat that adorned29 George, who was to 113be seen near the tea-table, holding a large flowered cosy30 while the maid set down a tray. George appeared to be a very useful little boy.
The smiling lady took Rose and Ruth round the circle, saying agreeable things that were evidently meant to make the children feel at ease, but did not succeed particularly well in so doing. In fact, every one seemed tongue-tied to an alarming degree. Presently the circuit had been made, however, each little girl dropping a curtsey, gravely returned by the two sisters. Then the old lady released their hands.
“Now I’m sure you’ll all behave most genteelly,” she said, “and be sure to eat a nice tea. Martha will see that everything is right. I don’t want to restrain you in your enjoyment31, and so I’ll leave you to make friends in your own way; I know young people like to be left to themselves.”
With that she smiled more benignly32 than ever, and moved off through an archway into an adjoining room, where Ruth, who was nearest, saw that a group of ladies were gathered about another tea-table. They all wore the fluffiest33 sort of lace caps, and skirts that spread wide, with bows of ribbon and narrow ruffles34 and braid trimmings. Some had fichus, some lace tuckers, all had bunches of curls hanging over their ears. A subdued35 murmur36 came from them.
With a concerted movement, the little party of “young people” now advanced to the tea-table. Martha set about filling cups and handing sandwiches 114and cake. With the munching37 every one began to unbend.
A rather tall girl with dark curls who looked even more serious than the others seated herself beside Rose.
“I am Deborah, the Rector’s eldest38 daughter,” she said quietly. “Perhaps you have never been in the house of a Rector before? It is a great pity that my honoured father is absent or you might be permitted to go in and curtsey to him. Peter ...” this somewhat sharply, addressing a slender lad in a blue coat with waistcoat and trousers of nankeen, who had pulled Ruth’s curls and was smiling mischievously39 as she looked from one side to the other, trying to catch her tormentor40 in the act.
“Leave off your teasing ways,” she said, shaking her head. “He is a bad, wild boy, Ruth, if he is my own brother.”
“I don’t mind,” asserted Ruth, and she fixed42 a daring eye upon him. “Come near enough and I’ll pull your curls ... since you have them!”
He laughed, and took a seat beside her. Deborah turned back to Rose, who was looking curiously43 around at the circle of proper little maidens44 who were eating and drinking so very, very nicely, and seeming so exceedingly staid and grown-up.
“Don’t you ever make a noise?” she asked Deborah.
Rose sighed. She began to feel an irresistible46 impulse to leap up and give one good yell—Red Indian yell, she muttered to herself.
A little girl with exceedingly blonde curls, pink cheeks and blue eyes, a plump and pretty little face, whispered:
“Would you like to see the sampler I am working? It is very sweet—three rules for a good girl, the digits47, the letters, and a rose.”
“Don’t boast, Matty,” chided Deborah.
“It isn’t boasting to say what it looks like,” retorted Rose, who began to dislike Deborah.
“Oh, but I’m sure Deborah is right,” Matty whispered again. “She is a superior child, every one says so.”
At this moment Ruth and Peter burst out into a hearty48 laugh. All the grave childish faces turned to them, and many a small hand in the act of conveying a delicious morsel49 of cake to a waiting mouth, paused midway.
“And then Windy Bob gave a yell you could hear half a mile,” Ruth was saying, “and got out his knife and started to cut the rope. But Rickety Bob just needed that little minute to get ahead—and WIN!” She ended with a shout.
“What is she talking about?” asked Matty, interestedly.
“I guess she’s telling about the race between Windy Bob and Rickety Bob, the two oldest cowpunchers 116in Wyoming,” said Rose. “It was a corking50 race, all right.”
“Listen to this,” Peter was saying. “Did you ever hear anything so amusing! Couldn’t we all go out there some time?”
“Go where, Peter?” It was Deborah’s voice, clear and disapproving51.
But the other children were all crowding round Ruth. “Tell us the story, too, won’t you, please?” they demanded. “What is a cow-puncher, and where do they get such funny names?”
“Oh, Lord, Rose, they don’t know what a cow-puncher is,” Ruth remarked, looking toward her sister in astonishment52.
“Tell you what,” proposed Rose, who was getting rather tired of the solemn tea, “let’s go outdoors and find a horse and show them some tricks. Have any of you got a pony53?”
“There’s the doctor’s nag,” said Peter, eagerly. “He’s nothing very much, but he has more life in him than a sedan chair—which is the horse most used hereabouts.”
“Come on then,” said Rose, getting to her feet. It was easy to see that Deborah objected. But then she was curious—and with a cautious glance between the curtains, which had been dropped by the maid so that the card playing ladies might not be distracted by the playfulness of the young people, she followed the bunch of boys and girls, who were pressing after Peter, Rose, and Ruth in no small excitement.
Peter led them up the neat and narrow street, where one or two passers-by stared at the children in amazement. For they were chattering54 at the top of their voices, and laughing in the most unrestrained manner over the reminiscences of Ruth and Rose, who, delighted at so appreciative55 an audience, raked up all the old cowboy yarns56 they could recollect57, and told them with fervour.
Just as Rose concluded a description of a round-up in the heyday58 of range life, a description she had heard a hundred times from old Windy Bob, who had cooked for her father’s outfit59 during several years, they reached a peaceful, grassy60 meadow, gay with golden buttercups. In the midst of this meadow a small horse was grazing.
“There he is,” announced Peter.
To be sure there was, and Peter ran off to get both from the stable. In the meanwhile Rose inveigled62 the horse toward her with a lump of sugar brought from the tea. The saddle was unlike any she had ever seen, but Ruth and she got it on, as well as the bridle.
Both girls could ride like the true Westerners they were, and now, tucking their voluminous skirts neatly63 about them, they showed off before that admiring herd64 of children in their quaint16 clothes, making them appear like miniature men 118and women, children who had never made a noise before in all their well-managed lives.
But they made plenty now. When Rose bent65 down from the saddle at full gallop66 and picked up a handkerchief from the grass, their shouts of applause rent the air. When Ruth stood up in the saddle for a few perilous67 yards even Deborah gasped68 with wonder, and as for Peter....
Peter evidently thought Ruth the very nicest girl he had ever seen. He was a handsome, gallant-looking lad, with dark curls that did not make him look girlish, and a bright, fun-loving glance. He climbed into the saddle next, and stuck there too, but when he tried to do Rose’s trick, off he tumbled, among the yells of the other boys and to the terror of all the little girls. He laughed, and tried again, and fell again, and Rose went to show him how. As for the little horse, it seemed too astonished at these extraordinary proceedings69 to protest by so much as a shrug70; it just did, as nearly as it knew how, what it was urged to do.
After they tired of the riding, Ruth proposed squat71 tag. It too was new to the Cranford boys and girls, but they took to it rejoicingly. How they raced, and shouted, and laughed. And what havoc72 the game played with flowing skirts and white ruffles and lace tuckers, and how flushed the young faces looked under the little poke bonnets, though many of these were flung on the grass in the abandon of the sport.
It was a royal afternoon.
119Before the hilarity73 had begun to die down a sedan chair born by two respectable servants in wigs74 and long full-skirted coats came slowly down the street. Behind it came two more, and after these a group of ladies moving in the gentlest possible manner, and chattering together over the agreeable party that had but that instant broken up.
Upon the shocked ears of this genteel group broke a wild screeching75, mixed with even wilder laughter. As they turned their heads in the direction of the sound, they saw—well, by the expression upon their faces as they stood rooted to the dust of the pavement, it was evident that they couldn’t believe their own eyes.
For there was Peter on the doctor’s horse, with Ruth mounted behind him, reining76 back his panting steed before a circle of hopping77 and yelling children who were flourishing sticks in the most threatening manner. Ruth was screaming wildly, and Deborah—Deborah the superior—was waving a carving78 knife in Peter’s face.
“Good gracious,” stammered79 one of the ladies. Whereupon the sedan chairs came to a sudden halt, three tops lifted simultaneously80, and three astounded81 faces appeared above them.
“Are they all mad?”
Rose suddenly caught sight of the little procession, frozen into a horrified82 immobility. She saw that an explanation was necessary, and hastily scrambled83 under the fence.
“We’re playing Indian,” she said. “Peter has rescued Ruth, the trapper’s daughter, from her Indian captor, and has been intercepted84 by the rest of the tribe ... it’s very exciting, and he does it so splendidly.”
“Look, look at their frocks, my poor dear Arabella,” gasped one of the heads in a sedan chair to another.
But now the rest of the children had perceived the interruption. A sudden silence fell upon them. All but Peter. Slipping off his horse, together with rescued Ruth, he laughed aloud.
“My, we’ll all catch it,” he said. “But it was worth it! It’s the most wonderful day we’ve ever known. I’m glad I rescued you, Ruth.”
“I’m glad, too,” Ruth answered. “You make a splendid backwoodsman. Must we stop?”
“I rather think so. Look at the ladies,” and he waved toward the group in the street.
Miraculously85, it seemed, mothers, aunts, and elder sisters had appeared, and were sorting out the different boys and girls who belonged to them. Slender hands in silk mittens86 were lifted in horror to the skies, as the ruin of clothes and the dust of Indian conflict and cowboy life were more and more revealed. There was a storm of low-voiced protest, like the whisper of winds in a forest of firs, faces turned pale, and there was a sniffle here and there among the reprimands.
“We were just playing,” Rose reiterated87.
“Yes,” added Ruth, feeling that they two were 121the ones to blame. “We wanted to show them what fun it is to be pioneers, that’s all.”
“In Cranford,” came back the stern reply, “we are ladies and gentlemen. You have all forgotten your manners. Dear, dear, what will people say?”
And then they all drifted away, driving their captured children before them. All but Peter. Smiling, he took a hand of each of the girls and shook it.
“You’ve given the old ladies lots to talk about,” he said, “and that is what they need. And now will you come home with me and....”
But Peter wavered before their eyes even as he spoke88. Dizzily they closed them. When they opened them again, they were home indeed, but it was their own familiar ranch89 home, not Peter’s.
“I wish he could have come with us,” mourned Ruth. “I did love Peter, didn’t you, Rose?”
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收听单词发音
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1
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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divulged
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| v.吐露，泄露( divulge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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7
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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15
quaintest
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| adj.古色古香的( quaint的最高级 )；少见的，古怪的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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17
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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18
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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20
bonnets
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| n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 )；（烟囱等的）覆盖物；（苏格兰男子的）无边呢帽；（女子戴的）任何一种帽子 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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untie
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| vt.解开，松开；解放 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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benignly
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| adv.仁慈地，亲切地 | |
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fluffiest
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| adj.似绒毛的( fluffy的最高级 )；有绒毛的；蓬松的；轻软状的 | |
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ruffles
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| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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tormentor
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| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
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mincingly
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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45
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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47
digits
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| n.数字( digit的名词复数 )；手指，足趾 | |
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48
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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49
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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corking
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| adj.很好的adv.非常地v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的现在分词 ) | |
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51
disapproving
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| adj.不满的，反对的v.不赞成( disapprove的现在分词 ) | |
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52
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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53
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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54
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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55
appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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56
yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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heyday
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| n.全盛时期，青春期 | |
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59
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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inveigled
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| v.诱骗，引诱( inveigle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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64
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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66
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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71
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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hilarity
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| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
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74
wigs
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| n.假发，法官帽( wig的名词复数 ) | |
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screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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76
reining
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的现在分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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82
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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83
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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86
mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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87
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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89
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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