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Reels and Spindles: A Story of Mill Life
Reels and Spindles: A Story of Mill Life
PREFACE
It was love for others which made Amy Kaye make use of the first opportunity which offered, even though it was an humble one and she was handicapped by ignorance. But having once decided what course was right for her, she followed it with a singleness of purpose and a thoroughness of effort which brought a prompt success. The help she was to others was no small part of this success. For in an age of shams and low ideals the influence of even one sincere girl is far-reaching; and when to that sincerity she adds the sympathy which makes another's interests as vital to her as her own, this influence becomes incalculable for good.
It is the author's hope that the story of "Reels and Spindles" may aid some young readers to comprehend and make their own this beauty of simplicity and this charm of sympathy which are the outcome of unselfishness.
E. R.
Baltimore, April 3, 1900.
CHAPTER I.
A BYWAY OF THE ARDSLEY
The white burro had a will of her own. So, distinctly, had her mistress. As had often happened, these two wills conflicted.
For the pair had come to a point where three ways met. Pepita wanted to ascend the hill, by a path she knew, to stable and supper. Amy wished to follow a descending road, which she did not know, into the depths of the forest. Neither inclined toward the safe middle course, straight onward through the village, now picturesque in the coloring of a late September day.
"No, Pepita. You must obey me. If I'm not firm this time, you'll act worse the next. To the right, amiable beastie!"
Both firmness and sarcasm were wasted. The burro rigidly planted her forefeet in the dust and sorrowfully dropped her head.
Amy tugged at the bridle.
"Pepita! To – the – right! Go on. In your native Californian —Vamos!"
The "Californian" budged not, but posed, an image of dejection. The happiness of life had departed; the tale of her woe seemed pictured in every hair of her thickly coated body; she was a broken-hearted donkey.
Amy Kaye was neither broken-hearted nor broken-spirited, and she was wholly comfortable. Her saddle was soft and fitted well. The air was delightful. She pulled a book from her pocket and began to read. In five minutes she was so absorbed that she had forgotten Pepita's little mannerisms.
After a while the "Californian" moved her head just enough to gain a corner-wise glimpse of a calm and unresponsive face beneath a scarlet Tam; and evidently realizing that she had become a mere support to the maid who owned her, uttered her protest.
"Bra-a-ay! Ah-umph! Ah-umph – umph – mph – ph – h!"